Harry Potter and the Mouth of Hell
by ZaraValinor
Summary: When Petunia Dursley is killed in a burglary, Harry must go to America where he has an unexpected realtive. I know been done, but hopefully a bit different. First Story. Please Read.
1. Chapter 1

Note: I do not own Harry Potter or Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I'm fooling with the time line and having Prophecy Girl come sometime in the summer. Harry is currently out of Hogwarts living with his Aunt and Uncle. Evil fiends. And this takes place after Order of the Phoenix.

Chapter 1: The Shrieking Shack and Unexpected Reunion.

Forces and natures both horrendous and powerful had long since trashed the place, furniture was tattered and torn, curtains hung limply weighed by dust of ages of abandonment. The local villagers claimed that it was haunted though any evidence hadn't been called to recent memory. Except that had changed one dark night in July.

Rubble and the few things left, if not whole, not entirely smashed to smithereens, were being hurled into rickety wood walls. They erupted with impact; sending shards of jagged material at the aggressor's already scarred face. His breath came out in ragged sobs that were timed with the explosion of each of his projectiles. It was not unlike the tantrum he had thrown a number of weeks ago inside his Professor's office.

Pain was something that sixteen-year-old Harry Potter was much accustomed to. But tonight, the night of his sixteenth birthday, the grief that had welled up inside of him caused by a gift Sirius must have ordered weeks ago was too much for him to take. He had snuck out of the house. A feat that was made both less and more remarkable considering the Wizard-hating family, his family, which he lived with during his time away from school.

It helped little having found out the reason for his detainment with the Dursley's, his mother's sister's family. It didn't make their abuse any easier to take and didn't help the long summer pass any quicker.

Since returning to the place he needed to call home for his own protection, Harry had not been the silent but obedient nephew. He had been there a few hours before a row had erupted between he and Uncle Vernon. The big brut of man had staggered toward him menacingly, warning him that if his freakish friends did as they had promised there would be more then harsh words passed between them. Remus Lupin, Nymphadora Tonks, and Mad-Eye Moody had all threatened Uncle Vernon in the very much same way the brutish man terrorized his nephew, if they received ill reports from Harry.

Harry hadn't cared either way. He had suddenly found himself unwilling to measure up to the wizarding worlds expectations, pressed upon him by a prophecy, nor did he wish to drag another of his friends into a dangerous situation that would get another one of them killed. In the young wizard's mind he was just a mark for a target, one that had already nearly crushed him before.

In fact he bore the scar of his first encounter with the most powerful and the most evil wizard in decades, centuries even. It ran across his forehead, in the shape of a lightning bolt, the result from a killing curse when he was just a tiny baby.

That was the evil that Lord Voldemort promised. That he would steep so low to attack a defenseless baby, killing both Harry's father and mother in the process. And it was because of Voldemort, or to most wizard's He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named or You-Know-Who, that Harry's godfather, Sirius Black, had recently been murdered.

As his thoughts once again turned to the object of his mad rage, Harry picked up a cracked vase. Missing a chunk out of it's rim, it might have once been pretty with violet flowers that were enchanted to open and close as though with the changing of the season. He wasted no time drawing in its beauty; instead he cocked his arm back and flung it at the nearest wall.

Short of impact it paused, hovering there as though a string had suddenly attached itself to the delicate vase and had forbidden such wreckage. Disbelievingly, Harry starred at the vase for several moments before turning on his heal in understanding.

There bathed by the light of not quite a full moon, was Remus J. Lupin, both his father and godfather's best friend and the only werewolf Harry knew. His wand was pointed at the vase still hanging precariously in the air over Harry's shoulder.

"I think the Shrieking Shack has taken enough abuse in its life time don't you?" Professor Lupin asked gently, flicking his wand forward so that the vase came towards his hand and he caught it quickly.

"What are you doing here?" Harry said. Hastily he dashed the angry tears that had been falling during his destruction of the Shrieking Shack, the place where he had learned the truth about Sirius Black. "You shouldn't be out, you need your rest."

It was true; the transformation to werewolf was a taxing and sickening experience, often leaving Lupin looking more fatigued and aged then his years would tell. Harry had seen the transformation himself and wondered if half the wizards that shunned werewolves would take the same approach if they saw the pain it caused them.

"Professor Snape has concocted my potion and added something to keep me strong until after the transformation," Lupin answered easily, sitting on the lone and ragged bed inside the room. "A better question would be why you are out of bed? Not to mention how you managed to give Tonks the slip."

Nymphadora Tonks, a slightly klutzy auror and a member of the Order of the Phoenix, had been given the undesirable lot of guarding Harry. "I sent Hedwig to knock a few bins over, while Tonks was investigating I went out the window," Harry answered sullenly.

Lupin sighed heavily, a sense of a growl deep inside his voice. "Harry, you must realize the necessity of taking the utmost caution. However much I might understand your actions tonight, I cannot condone them. This was not what Sirius gave his life for."

"You wouldn't..." Harry started to but cut himself off as a rock of emotion lodged itself in his throat. There was still apart of him that was angry with Professor Lupin for not letting him go through that stupid flimsy veil and pull Sirius back out. As much as his head tried to convince him otherwise his heart was sure that his godfather was just waiting beyond that veil, perhaps with his arm reaching out for Harry to take it.

A look of kind concern and deep affection appeared over the werewolf's haggard face and he crossed the room to Harry. He rested a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Let me take you to your Aunt and Uncle's. We can speak there if you'd like."

Harry looked around the otherwise shack, knowing that it was useless to argue. Why had he come here? To feel Sirius' presence?

He thought of that night, two years ago when he, Ron, and Hermione had been swept in the intrigue of betrayal and vengeance. If only he had done something differently, kept a better eye on Wormtail, perhaps Sirius would have been free these last couple of years. Maybe he wouldn't have been so desperate to leave Grimmauld Place and rescue Harry.

No matter how many times he went down that thought path, he found himself at the center of it. All in all, it was his fault that Sirius had died, his fault for not listening to those that had never led him astray before. That burden nearly crushed the air out of his lungs.

"It's not my home," Harry muttered. "It's the place I reside."

"Still there are things to be done. Your things to pack so that you can return with me to headquarters."

"Alright," he conceded weakly, thankful at least that he'd finally get to see Ron and Hermione. "There's nothing here anyway."

"Not after you've finished with it," Lupin chided gently. After a moments silence, Lupin continued. "Before I forget. Happy Birthday Harry."

From out of his shabby wizards robes he pulled out a tiny cube. At first glance it looked like one of the Muggle's colored cubes that he'd seen Dudley ignore, but when he looked closer he saw that it was enchanted, giving it a shiny glimmer. Harry took it in his hands and it fit snugly in his palm.

"What is it?" he asked, giving his former Professor a questioning look.

"That's for you to find out," Lupin answered, letting Harry take the stairs before him. "It's a puzzle, Harry. Hopefully one that will lead you to some peace."

Harry pocketed the strange cube, with it's shimmering colored tiles and wondered what it's cryptic message carried.

They came to the ordered line of houses on Privet Drive. Harry, however, didn't experience the usual feeling of a man about to be wrongfully incarcerated that accompanied the sight of his Aunt and Uncle's perfect home. He would only have to be there long enough to collect his school things, the presents that his friends had set him, and the silver compass watch that was his last gift from Sirius.

He drew out his key and went to press it in the lock when the door swung open with just a gentle touch. Harry felt his heart thump in his chest as he exchanged a concerned look with his former Professor. "There's something wrong," he whispered.

"Perhaps they just forgot to lock it," Lupin proposed, but Harry could hear his doubt.

Harry went to push the door open, but was suppressed by Professor Lupin. "Get behind me, Harry," he shot tightly to his young friend. His wand was in his hand seemingly without moving. With is free hand he prodded the door. It opened only half way.

"What is it?" Harry asked, swallowing down his fear and placing his hand on his own wand that sat inside his back pocket.

"It's wedge against something," Lupin whispered. "Best get your wand out, Harry."

With some trepidation, Harry drew out his wand. Not just last year, he had been in trouble with the Ministry of Magic for using magic outside of school. Of course, they had seemed to have thought that Dementors weren't a big enough threat for Harry to feel intimidated by. He stuck his hand out just behind Lupin's back.

"Where's Tonks?" Harry asked, following close behind Lupin.

"She's out looking for you," Lupin answered. "Half the Order is."

The entire house, once so prim and proper, looked as though Remus had transformed inside of it. Lamps were shattered, the couch cushions had been upturned and left akimbo, the rocking chair was on it's side, its wood slates scratched but still intact. The pole of a lamp had caught the door and Lupin gently kicked it aside. Harry could hardly believe that it was the same house he had left a few hours ago.

Down the hall and towards the kitchen, Harry could hear a sort of huffing sound that repeated in integral moments. Very much like the sound of a fan.

On the back of his neck, Harry's tiny hairs stood up on end and unconscious shivers ran down his neck. He was so preoccupied with the strange repetitive sound that he didn't notice when Professor Lupin paused and nearly bowled into the werewolf. "Maybe you should stay behind, Harry."

"And leave you here alone?" Harry shot back incredulous. "I think not."

Lupin started to smile, but then the corners of his mouth turned down in a frown. "Fine, but you must do everything I tell you. Even if it means leaving. Agreed?"

Harry nodded, then pointed towards the kitchen door. "Through there?"

A swing door lead to the kitchen and Lupin flung it open.

Breath caught and stayed inside of Harry's chest as he saw the tableau before him. Both Uncle Vernon and Dudley's hulking forms were leaning over the thin frame of Aunt Petunia. For the space of a heartbeat Harry feared that Voldemort had found away past the protection spell Albus Dumbledore had set up to keep Harry and the Dursley's safe from the evil wizard, but then he saw it. A red splotch, no bigger then a Harry's fist sat high up on Aunt Petunia's chest.

The huffing sound was actually the sputtering sobs of Uncle Vernon, how clasped his wife's thin hand in his own as though to keep her anchored. Harry felt his heart go out to them and his vision inexplicably blurred. While Lupin moved forward to check on Harry's aunt, the young wizard could not move. He was frozen in his place, his wand pointed at the kitchen sink, but his head turned down at what was left of the only family he had.

"Vernon, what happened?" Lupin asked, kneeling next to hulking form.

"Burglar," he sputtered, his face red and splotchy from tears. "Came into the house...wanted some of Petunia's jewelry and other things. Wasn't fast enough. He had a gun."

Lupin's face paled to nearly the color of the moon he feared, his face snapping to Harry. "Harry go back to the Shack," he ordered, fear making his words tense.

As though he had been petrified Harry could not move. He could barely even register the words. His mind was reeling on a kaleidoscope. His vision was blurred and no matter how many times he blinked to clear it, he couldn't help but see the swimming red mark on Aunt Petunia's chest.

"Vernon get Dudley and yourself to the police," Lupin said, leaping to his feet. "Stay away from the house as long as possible."

Uncle Vernon seemed not to be in the same state as Harry and just continued to weep over his wife's body. "Mobilius," Lupin shouted, pointing his wand at Vernon. Instantly the hulking form shot to his feet and started to pry Dudley from his mother's side. Lupin went back to Harry's side.

"Harry we can't remain here. Voldemort most likely has this place watched, waiting for such an occurrence. The barrier is gone," Lupin said, shaking him. For once not afraid to touch his former pupil.

Giving himself a mental shake, Harry turned to face the werewolf. It was an effort to do just this. "Voldemort did this?" he stuttered.

"I don't think so," Lupin assured him. "But he will take advantage of the situation." He picked up half a plate from the floor and pointed his wand to it muttering, "Portus."

"What?" Harry said dazed as Lupin pressed the plate into his hand.

"I'll get your trunk. Are all your schoolbooks inside?" Harry indicated that they were. "Good. I'll grab whatever else I think you might need." He glanced at his watch. "That's a portkey to Hogwart's. I'll met you there. Whatever you do don't leave the school, understand?"

It was the one thing that Harry could comprehend.

A sea of books laid out on the library table, masking the cherry wood finish from the lone occupant. It was the middle of the night, early in August and Rupert Giles had rolled the sleeves of his shirt and had removed his tweed jacket to fight against the summer heat. He earned for the school year where Sunnydale High was pumped with air conditioning and filled the musty library with cool humidity. But school had let out rather uneventfully and Giles was forced to research in the heat of the night.

It hadn't been too difficult to get access to the library from Principal Snyder. He had just informed the horrid man that he had cleared it with the City Council to re-catalogue the library. Despite the heat he preferred meeting his Slayer and her group in the library rather then in his own tiny flat. There was also the accommodating fact that Willow could use the schools computer system to 'hack' into the information sources they needed. There was ample space for Buffy's training, and a number of times Xander had commented on how close the local Doublemeat Palace was.

Right now Xander and Willow were out purchasing snacks, while Buffy did a routine sweep of the cemeteries surrounding the small town of Sunnydale. It was likely going to be a long night of research. Since killing the Anointed One, the vampire activity had been haphazard and unpredictable. Buffy having faced seven vampires one night to only find a fledgling the next. Giles hoped that with the aid of the Codex, a book of prophecies that the ensouled vampire Angel had obtained for him, they could decipher the Master's true intent.

They had all been immersed in demon text, cross-referencing with the Codex, for some sign of what was to come. He glanced at his watch, Buffy would be back from her sweep soon and would demand answers. She could be quite forceful despite her protests against her destiny and was unlike any Slayer that he had read about in the Watcher's diaries.

When the double doors to the library swung open, Giles did not glance up from his Rumaic glyphs covering his recent object of study. "Buffy how was patrol?" he asked, his words slurred by the arm of his glasses he held between his teeth.

There wasn't an answer and he wondered if Buffy was performing one of her silent treatments that she had pulled from time to time. A sullen, pouty, Buffy was worse then the overly cheerful, snide, Buffy.

Glancing up, ready to give any sort of consolation the moody Slayer needed at the moment, Giles glasses fell from his lips. "Good Lord," he muttered. "Remus?"

"Hello Rupert," the werewolf muttered stepping further into the library. "I suspect your surprised to see me."

The years had not been kind to the werewolf, Giles automatically took notice of his thin frame and the glint of silver that cut through the sandy hair. Still, he couldn't help but see the boy he'd known in those pale eyes.

"That would be quite the understatement," Giles said evenly, rising from the table. "Is James with you?" He was surprised at the bitterness in his tone. It had been decades since he had last seen any of the Marauders.

Remus winced. "I was afraid that the news had not reached you."

"Yes, well, there is a reason for that," Giles said coldly. There was something not right here. Something that Buffy had once referred to as 'Spidersense'. And why was Remus holding his arm in such an odd manner, as though he were resting it on someone's shoulder. Certainly, the wizard did not have an invisible girl with him.

"Rupert you must put the past aside," Remus said, taking another step forward.

Giles scoffed. "And why should I do that? I don't remember any of you being so charitable the last time we met." He stuck his hands in his pockets, glaring at the werewolf balefully.

Of it's own accord the hand that Giles had noticed to be quite unusual rocketed backward and strangely enough it took a struggle for Remus to bring it back. "James is dead, Rupert."

The Watcher felt his knees go to jelly. "Dead?"

"For some time now," Remus said sympathetically. "But that isn't why I came."

"And what could be more important then that?" Giles asked caustically.

Remus prodded the air and out of no where a hand appeared and pulled at the thin air. As it did, a boy, around the age of his Slayer appeared with raven hair, that seemed intent on going every which way, and emerald green eyes. Right now, his boyish features were screwed up in a disgruntled frown. Giles would have been blind to not see the resemblance between this boy and James Potter, but still his mind refused to make the connection. He searched Remus imploringly.

"Rupert, I'd like you to met your nephew, Harry Potter."


	2. Chapter 2

I'm a staunch Buffy/Angel fan so he will be given his credit in this story. I couldn't imagine not having Angelus appear. Whether Harry finds a girl in Sunnydale or Hogwarts or at all, I'm not sure. It really isn't the point of this story. Harry will know the truth about the Scooby Gang, I don't Giles would keep that from him, however it will not be readily revealed that Harry is a wizard.

Chapter 2: Revisiting the Past and Explanations

"You're not my father," Rupert Giles cried as he tore for the door to escape the Potter house and the recrimination of his stepfather. "I don't have to listen to this."

The outraged twenty-one year old was not interested in hearing how he had disgraced his family. His mother, Arlene Giles Potter, and his stepfather Edward Potter, did not understand the constant pressure weighing on him, didn't understand the birthright that Jayson Giles, his birth father, had left him with. A man he had never met, had managed to determine the sequence his life would take. If they knew what he would be called to face nightly, that he'd lead a young girl into that same danger with him, they would have drunk themselves pissed too.

"Rupert, darling, please be reasonable," his mother tried to sooth, intercepting his retreat vector. Her hand came up to caress his cheek. "You know Edward loves you as though you were his own."

"I'm not though am I," Rupert snapped, his hazel eyes flaring with anger. There was the crux of Rupert's problem. He did not fit into this world of wizardry, not like James did. The only world he fit in to was the one where he had his guitar held snug under his arm and he could sing out the unrighteousness of his lot.

Yesterday they had buried their first corpse, the neck had been pierced with two puncture holes and the corpse had been, even in death, an unnatural white, devoid of all its blood. There had been no family for the young girl, a Vampire Slayer, no one to mourn her death save perhaps her Watcher. And it was to this destiny that Rupert's soul was bound to and not the music of his heart.

He swallowed against the emotion that clogged his throat. "I'm going to Ethan's," he muttered, once again attempting to make his escape.

"No you are not," Edward forbid. "Not if you want to keep your scholarship to Oxford. Any more of this unseemly behavior and you will be booted." Edward's face was a mixture of frustrated concern and utter loathing. "There is something devious about that Ethan boy."

"He's my best mate," Rupert was livid.

Edward didn't seem at all moved by this statement. "Then perhaps you might reconsider who it is you acquaint yourself with. We will not go through this again."

Rupert wasn't about to let go of his anger, he clung to it tenacious as a panther to its latest kill. At least then he could block out the dread and the fear. "You're right, we won't," he ground out between clenched teeth. "I'm moving over to Ethan's flat. Then you won't be burdened by the disgrace."

The young Watcher-in-Training had expected Edward's anger to rise, to have the argument draw out longer until they both stumbled out in a rage, so when his stepfather's face morphed to one of quiet and saddened disbelief, Rupert did not know how to react. "This is what you want?" the wizard asked, failing in keeping his voice even.

"Of course it isn't," Arlene interceded before Rupert could answer, delaying the inevitable departure of her oldest son for just a little longer. "He's upset, you both are. I think once we've had dinner everything will be put in to sorts." His mother's forced cheerfulness was almost too much for Rupert to take. "Come dear, it's your brother's birthday. Let's all try and make it a special day."

His mother used emotional blackmail stunningly, knowing how much Rupert adored his younger brother. "Fine. I'll be in my room."

He trenched up the stairs, conscious not to stomp up them, past the hallway full of moving photographs, a great deal of them him and James waving enthusiastically, and slammed the door behind him. He nearly set his guitar of the stand that sat in one corner of the room, along with an increasing stack of sheet music. His un-made bed was covered in assignments still awaiting his attention. Pushing the papers aside, he flung himself onto the bed and closed his eyes, wishing he was anywhere but here.

Just as he was drifting to sleep, Rupert heard his door creak open. "Hey, Ripper, you awake?" James's changing voice shot through the tiny break.

"Yeah," Rupert shot back quietly. "You going to pot yourself there or come in?"

James pushed the door open and closed it behind him, a look of feigned indignation touching his boyish features. He wasn't exceptionally tall for his age, but he was lanky, with black hair that matched his father's perpetual mess and eyes the same brown/green mix of their mother's. Rupert nudged the rest of his papers off the bed and rolled to a sitting position.

Before sitting next to his older brother, James picked up one of his note books and thumbed through the pages. "You actually understand this?" he asked, rumpling one of the corners to shove it into Rupert's face.

"Not much too it really," Rupert said. "It's like studying bedtime stories, each with their own underlying meaning." 'Each liable to get you killed,' he thought unforgivingly.

"Mental," James whispered before throwing it on the top of the disorganized heap. "I heard that you and Dad had another row."

"I don't want to talk about it," Rupert decreed. There was an awkward pause before he continued. "It's your birthday, let's have some fun. Where's Sirius and those other lag-abouts? I say after dinner I take you all out for a night on the town."

James eyes perked up. "Muggle London?"

"Course, don't want my brother getting too Wizard sappy do I?" Rupert teased, messing James's already incurable hair. "You can't always point that wand at everything. So what's it to be? Sneak you into a pub?"

"Sirius would love that," James said wryly.

"He'd probably hit on the waitress," Rupert agreed "What about Mooney and Wormtail? They in the mood for some bird chasing?" This time Rupert waggled his eyebrows up and down suggestively.

James laughed. "Not that any girl would look twice with you around."

"Alright not the pub," he agreed. "Think on it. We'll have a bloody fantastic time or die trying."

"Rupert, James, dinner," Arlene shouted from below. "James your friends are here."

"Best get down there," James said, noting Rupert's hesitation. "Try to be civil."

Rupert nodded, following his brother down the stairs. Edward was the only father he had ever known and he loved him. Surely they could work out these differences.

Tears coursed down Arlene Potter's eyes as her eldest son closed the door behind him. It was the last time she would see Rupert save for a brief moment years later. He was really gone. It cracked her heart, allowing her blood to spill freely. Edward wrapped his arms around her from behind, holding her as she shook with each sob.

"I'm sorry, Arlene," and she could tell from his voice that he truly was. "He's been dabbling in black magic. I couldn't allow him to continue with James still in school. You know how he looks up to him, right idolizes him. That magic, with no wand to channel its properties is too haphazard." She felt the slight thump of tears hit the coif of her hair and fall to her scalp. "He or someone else is going to die unless we shake some sense into him."

"I'm afraid for him, Edward," she huffed between breaths.

She felt him nod above her. "I am too."

Arlene was grateful that James was off to school with his friends, away from the trauma of his older brother's decline. She would have to owl him she knew, sooner or later. But right now she consoled herself with allowing it to be later.

"He left."

Sirius looked up from his plate of bangers and mash and frowned. "Who?"

"Ripper," James answered. He took the latest letter from his parents and handed it to his best friend. Thankful that the Great Hall was as boisterous as usual he leaned closed to both Remus, who was on Sirius right, and Sirius. "He's been using Dark Magic."

"But how? He's a Muggle," Remus asked

"Mum didn't go too much into it did she," he replied angrily. "He used some sort of Muggle way, calling on a demon or such." James ran a hand through his black hair.

Remus was taken aback and took to concentrating on his food. Sirius snapped his eyes on James. "There's no need to snap at Moony. It's not his fault your brother is a delinquent."

It was a rare occasion when James and Sirius argued, but when they did, Hogwarts seemed to all go in to the dunk and cover position. James snapped up his wand intent on making his best friend take back such a nasty comment. "My brother isn't a delinquent."

"You gonna curse me, Potter?" Sirius asked, half way amused, half way enraged.

Remus looked between his two best friend, knowing well the signs of a duel between the two. He stood up and placed himself between Sirius and James. "This isn't the way to show James our support."

"He's the one who turned his wand on me," Sirius argued.

The werewolf gave his friend a pleading look. "James please"

For several long moments, James just stood there fuming, his chest rising up and down in ragged timing. Finally, he shoved his wand into his robes. "I'm going to class."

But James didn't go to class, he skived off and headed for the Gryffindor Tower. He muttered the password walked over to his trunk that sat at the foot of his bed. Prying open the lid, he took out the photograph of him and Rupert taken just before he'd left for Hogwarts for his first year. Rupert's dark brown hair lay neatly against his scalp, but his t-shirt and jeans gave him a much more wild appearance.

Looking at his seventeen-year-old brother, he couldn't imagine how much had changed in four years. He looked so happy there, his arm draped over James' shoulder, each of them pulling faces that had made their mother and father laugh. But after Rupert had graduated Muggle secondary school and started University he'd begun to change. He got angry quicker, started hanging out with that Ethan fellow, and hulled himself up in his room forever playing that bloody guitar.

James had tried his best to understand the changes his brother was going through, but he knew that Rupert's was a world that he could not quite comprehend, just as Rupert did not quite fit into his.

Below he heard the sound of footsteps mounting the stairs. They stopped just before the door. "It's alright Padfoot, I'm not going to curse you," he called out to Sirius, knowing that his best friend had come to apologize.

"Like you could, Prongs," Sirius quipped back shutting the door behind him. "Really, James, I am sorry. I shouldn't have been, what did Remus call it....so callus."

James looked back down at the photograph in his hand before ripping it. "It doesn't matter. He's not my brother any more."

It was James, but it wasn't. Still the very sight of his nephew, caused Rupert Giles to feel as though he had been blasted twenty years into the past. Considering his latest adventures on the Hellmouth, he figured that wasn't too drastic a possibility. But there were differences. He didn't have the same green/brown eyes that had been one of the few links between the brothers. Instead they were a vibrant emerald. His nose was more aquiline then James' had been and a strange lightning bolt marking sat on his forehead, behind messy bangs.

Giles removed his glasses and began cleaning them on the tail of his shirt, unable to reconcile the years. "When did this...I mean... I didn't know. Hello, Harry." Not the most eloquent greeting.

"Hello," Harry said tersely.

"Shall we sit down," Remus cut in, saving Giles from any further embarrassment.

"Hm? Yes, of course, please," the Watcher gestured to his table of books and began staking them in a corner. "Sorry the library isn't up to its usual standards. You can just nudge those books out of your way."

Remus picked up Kinchk Book of Demonic Prophecy. "Big project, Rupert."

Giles took it from the werewolf's hand. "Yes." He looked over at Harry, who for the first time was showing an emotion that wasn't disgruntled frustration as he looked over Giles collection of text. "You told him about what I do?"

"He knows you are a Watcher," Remus affirmed.

"Discreet of you," Giles retorted facetiously.

"It's not as though I published it. There are still so few in our world who know of the defense your Council gives," Remus defended. "Besides if he's going to be living with you, he needed to know the truth."

Giles had to agree with Remus' reasoning until he realized what the werewolf had said. "Living with me?"

Sagely, Remus nodded. "Is there somewhere we can speak?"

"My office," Giles answered.

The werewolf turned to Harry. "Can I trust you not to run off while I'm explaining things to your uncle?"

"I don't understand why I can't come live with you or stay at the Order," Harry argued. "I don't even know him."

A stern expression fell over Remus' haggard features. "You know how I'm looked upon inside the Ministry. They would never approve of me adopting you, as much as I'd like, especially when you still have family remaining." He gave Harry a gentle smile. "America should be an adventure."

'You have no idea,' Giles thought wryly.

"You'll stay," Remus persisted.

Harry nodded mutely and Giles lead the werewolf to his office and shut the door behind him. Lupin spun on his as soon as it was closed. "Let's get a few things straight. I didn't want to bring Harry here. If it weren't for the Ministry and that bumbling idiot Fudge, he wouldn't be. But the laws of our world are clear, Harry must stay with relatives unless none no longer exist."

The Watcher wasn't about to backpedal away from the enraged werewolf. "Even if the relative is a Muggle?" he spat back.

"Harry has been living with his Muggle aunt for the past fifteen years," Remus answered some of his previous fortitude wavering. He suddenly looked very ill and slumped into Giles' desk chair. "Unless you refuse him, we have little choice."

"That's why you came, is it? To get me to disown my own nephew," Giles growled.

Remus shivered and reached to pull a cloak, that wasn't there, around him tighter. "The thought had crossed my mind, Rupert. But no, I won't try and take Harry away from you. He needs a place he can truly feel safe and have a little stability."

"What has happened, Remus? James is dead. I would assume that Lily died with him, and you mentioned an aunt that can no longer watch after Harry," Giles started ticking off the points. "Clearly, there is a danger."

"James never did give you credit for your deductive reasoning." Remus shook his head. "A few years before Lily and James were married, a Dark Wizard began to make his presence known. He called himself Lord Voldemort.and he started to make things difficult, not just for wizards, but for Muggles as well. He killed all that he found unworthy and gathered followers to him to help him in his cause. Many did so out of power, but still many were forced, either by fear or magic."

"The Imperius Curse?" Giles asked.

"Yes. When James and Lily married they were already members of an Order who set out to stop Voldemort and his cause, as were I, Sirius, and Peter. It was a dangerous time, many of our friends were tortured and killed. We soon learned after Harry's birth that James and Lily were targeted. They went into hiding, but they were betrayed by a friend. Peter had been working as a spy for Voldemort and betrayed James and Lily's location."

Remus took a breath, as though he were suddenly short of breath. "Voldemort came to the house and James rushed to face him, trying to hold him long enough for Lily to take Harry and run. But when he wanted you dead, there was not escape. Lily made it as far as Harry's nursery and used her body to shield Harry."

"Harry?" Giles asked, catching that his brother and sister-in-law were almost an afterthought, a obstacle.

"That was perhaps our biggest mistake. When Voldemort targeted James and Lily we initially thought it was because they were a member of the Order. Only one of the members knew the truth. That is was Harry, Voldemort truly wanted to destroy." Giles followed Lupin's gaze to his nephew. "There is a prophecy that claims that only Harry can possibly kill Voldemort. That neither of them can live fully until the other one is gone. There is much more to it and thankfully, Voldemort did not catch the full of the prophecy. When he went to kill Harry he used the killing curse, but unlike James, and Lily, and hundreds more, it did not kill Harry. It rebounded and struck Voldemort, temporarily incapacitating him."

"Who did he loose?" Giles asked, watching the boy thumb through one of his books.

"James named Sirius Harry's godfather; Sirius died protecting him from Voldemort a month ago," Remus answered.

Giles removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. "This may be the safest and most dangerous place for him to be."

"Why dangerous?" Remus asked, reflecting the same sort of disbelief Buffy had shown when he'd explained that Sunnydale was not as it appeared to be. That something dark lurked beneath the surface, waiting to break through and swallow them whole.

"Boca del Inferno," Giles answered.

"I'm not a linguist, Rupert."

"We stand on the Mouth of Hell, Remus." Giles wished he'd had more time to prepare for this. That Harry had been given to him right after James had been murdered, giving him more time to explain the dangers of this life to Harry. "Vampires, Incubi, Succubi, even werewolves, they're attracted here by it. It's a concentrated mind field of everything that goes bump in the night."

A light seemed to go off in Remus' mind. "That's why you were sent here?"

"That and the fact that the Slayer is located here," Giles answered.

"The Buffy you mentioned?"

"She's the most unusual Slayer in history, but she would be well put to use in guarding Harry," Giles explained.

"Can she be trusted? Is she mature enough to handle such an assignment?" Remus asked.

Giles opened his mouth to answer when he hear the double doors to the library being shoved open and a petite blonde girl, wearing black jeans and red tank top bustled in. "Giles!" she cried.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Trouble Brewing, Vader-Complex, and Living Arrangements.

Buffy had just had one of her worst nights slaying. Four vampires in one night and not just the usual fledglings who wanted to make a quick name for themselves and ended up in a quick nameless pile of ash. No, Buffy was experienced enough now to know the difference between the newbies and the oldtimers. The Oldtimers always seemed to be a little more cautious around her, but a lot more loud.

She'd broken a nail dusting the last vamp, he'd been a piece of work. Must have been a martial artist in his previous life....life. Had worked her over really good. Buffy had gone home to clean up the blood, some of it her own this time, and change before sneaking out her window, climbing down the handy trellis that Joyce had just installed to liven the house.

Giles wound just have to hit the books harder, she had decided. Sleep would just have to be put on the back burner of Priority Buffy. She pushed the double doors of the library open and walked past the books scanner and cried out her Watcher's name.

A dark head, that had previously been bent over one of the oh-not-so-great-smelling tomes that Giles seemed to harbor as priceless family heirlooms, jerked up from the book and turned to face Buffy at her outburst.

"You're not Giles," Buffy said, instantly falling into fighting stance. A vampire hadn't come on campus yet, but Buffy wasn't about to put it past them. "Where's Giles, Xander, and Willow? And who are you?"

"If you're referring to Rupert Giles, he's in his office," the dark haired boy answered, his inflection cultured and resembling Giles' British accent. "And I don't know who Xander and Willow are."

"Which leaves us with my final question? And I don't do Alex Trebeck so you better give me the answer in the form of an answer now," Buffy threatened while the dark haired boy watched her blankly.

"It's alright, Buffy," Giles said, suddenly from behind her, walking out from his office with a strange sick-looking man. He gestured to the poor man. "This is Remus Lupin an old friend." Looking at the boy sitting at the table, a look of sadness passed over Giles' features. "And this is my nephew, Harry."

Buffy felt heat rush to her cheeks as she offered a hand to Harry. "Sorry about the pushy, just you can't be that careful with all the vam...crime. Yes, crime. It's running amuck these days." Somehow this seemed to pain the boy. "I can see this isn't something I should be involved in. I should go. Cause if I don't, I'll be involved and that's someplace I really shouldn't be. Which is to say, good night."

Remus gave Giles an incredulous as Buffy past by. "She's really quite good, despite some of my own misgivings," Giles defended. "Buffy there's no need to go. Actually, your timing is impeccable. How was patrol?"

"Patrol?" she asked, wondering for a moment if Giles had completely lost his mind. Sure it was his family, but she didn't get to tell her mother the truth, why should Giles get to parade it around his nephew like it was newest Hilfiger fashion. "Four vamps, not lightweights either. It's getting hairy, Giles."

"Their numbers are increasing," Giles identified.

"Yeah and I'm the one putting her life on the line while you sit here having tea and crumpets with your nephew," Buffy snapped. "While my mother has to be the one with the bag over her head."

Giles sighed heavily, as though it were his shoulders the weight of the world were placed. Or perhaps it was just to give him time to decipher Buffy's latest imagery. "Buffy, I'm doing all I can. Xander and Willow have been working tirelessly. We'll find out what the Master's up to, I promise. It's just going to take a little time."

"Well the sooner the better," Buffy said with a pout. "I broke a nail. I don't even have a press on. The least you could do is show some casual interest. You could go 'hm',"

"Hm?" Giles uttered confused. Then he shook his head as Lupin cleared his throat. "Buffy, please sit down I need to discuss something of personal manner with you before Xander and Willow return. It concerns Harry."

Buffy eyed the boy again. He was a handspan taller then her, but she had faced creatures that were much taller and had not felt that sense of power that she could feel pulsing from Giles' nephew. In fact, both of Giles' new playmates had a strange reaction from her Slayer-sense. "So this wasn't exactly a social call," Buffy guessed.

At least, Lupin had stopped looking as though she had walked out of the funny strips. "It's a grave matter," he intoned.

Rolling her eyes, Buffy hefted herself on the counter that was the checkout area for the library. "When is it not? So what's the trauma?" she asked off handedly, kicking her legs against the base of the counter.

Lupin gave Giles a you-must-be-joking look. "Rupert this is serious."

"Buffy understands that, she just has a different approach to handling danger then most people," Giles defended and Buffy brightened. "She faces danger every night, Remus. You don't expect her to break down every time, do you?"

Buffy swung off the counter and crossed over to Harry. "You want to fill me in on the trouble while these two go at it?" she whispered in a stage voice to make sure that Giles and Lupin heard her.

For the briefest of moments she thought she saw a smile flicker across Harry's solemn face. She remembered that look, she'd seen it often enough in the mirror starring back at her, especially when she'd first learned that she was the Slayer. The burden of responsibility that lay on her shoulders alone. What was it about Giles' nephew that was causing all this upset? He seemed normal enough, except for what looked like a tatoo in the shape of a lightning bolt on his forehead and that sense of power.

"Buffy, Harry is being targeted by an extremely powerful wizard by the name of Lord Voldemort. He managed to kill my brother and Harry's mother, in his attempt to strike out at Harry," Giles ripped into his explanation without preamble. "As I am his only living relative that can take over his guardianship, he has come to stay with me for the summer. At least I assume it's the summer?"

Giles turned to Lupin for confirmation. "Harry will be returning to Hogwarts in the fall," Lupin affirmed.

"So why does the guy with the Vader complex want Harry?" Buffy asked.

"Harry's managed to thwart many of Voldemort's attempts to regain his former power," Lupin stepped in. He rested a hand on Harry's shoulder and the boy seemed to relax marginally. "Since he will be staying with his uncle, we'd hoped that we could count on your help in protecting him."

Buffy shrugged easily. "Sure. Anything for Giles."

"Thank you, Buffy," Giles said softly.

Smiling, Buffy said, "Your welcome, Giles. But it's gonna cost you."

"Why am I not flabbergasted by surprise?" Giles asked wryly.

"I want to tell my mom," Buffy stated. "I'm sick of being the poster child for the troubled juvenile and her not knowing the truth."

"Buffy we've been through this before and you expressed your own reasons as to why you didn't want to tell your mother," Giles countered.

The Slayer winced thinking of those few weeks inside a Mental Institution that her parents had sent her to, just for mentioning vampires. "I thought maybe if I had someone backing me up, then she wouldn't get so wigged. Please Giles. Pretty please." She had her hands folded in front of her and her lips were turned down in a pout.

Giles gave her his usual indignant stance, his eyes flaming with determination. But she cocked her head ever so slightly and looked up at him with big eyes. "Alright, I'll think about it. But you must understand this is unprecedented."

"Unprecedented is my middle name," Buffy exclaimed.

From outside of the library they heard a high pitched giggle, followed by a much mellower laugh. "Must be Xand and Wil," Buffy deduced. "Where did they go anyway?"

"Xander as usual was hungry," Giles said, straightening his glass on his face as though to retain some dignity after falling under Buffy's manipulation. "They went to get 'snackage'? Um Buffy, I'd rather you not tell Willow or Xander about Harry's misfortune."

"Keep a secret from my best friends? That's like against several laws of friendship code. It's up there with not telling about your latest crush," Buffy argued.

Giles face went stern and she knew that she couldn't win on this one. "Just for the time being."

"Alright," she mopped.

At that moment Xander walked in with two large bags of chips and other assortment of goodies that had become a staple for long night research parties, a skipping Willow by his side. "Buffy your back," Willow called cheerfully. "How was..." she stopped suddenly catching the new faces. "And we have company? Xander we have company."

"Overburden as I am with sweet and salty goodness, I can see Willow," Xander said testily. "You could have offered to help me carry this." He plopped the bags on the counter.

"Xander, Willow, this is Remus Lupin and Harry Potter. Harry is my nephew and will be staying with me for a while," Giles introduced.

Willow brightened considerably. "Giles you didn't tell us you had a nephew," she admonished him, before sticking out a hand towards Harry. "Hi, I'm Willow. It's nice to know that Giles has family. He's always locked up in this library...and your probably wondering why were here at such a late hour."

"Summer school," Xander exclaimed.

"Yeah, hey, what? I am not in summer school," Willow argued, glaring at Xander.

Buffy laughed. "It's cool guys, they know."

"Right of course," Willow said nervously. She stood back toward Xander and smacked him in the stomach. "Your supposed to stop me when I do that."

Xander splayed his hands out in defense. "You caught me off guard."

"I think we should call it a night guys," Buffy said, saving Giles from any further embarrassment. "Harry's arrival was unexpected and I think Giles would like to get him settled." She turned to her Watcher. "I'll do a final sweep, but I don't think we're going to see anyone else for a while. Check with you in the morning."

"That should be fine," Giles said. "I'll contact you all for a meeting tomorrow. We cannot lax on our research."

With long suffering, Xander picked up his bags. "So slumber party at Willow's."

"I'm game," Buffy said, wishing for a moment that they could bring Harry with them. He seemed so downtrodden, but she had been right, he needed time with Giles. "It was nice meeting you Harry, Mr. Lupin."

br

Books upon books. It was the prevalent them inside his Uncle Rupert's flat in America. That and an inordinate amount of green. But it was warm and a far cry from the cold precision of his Aunt Petunia's front room. There was a smell of lingering tea and warm biscuits and of it's own accord, Harry's stomach growled.

"Have you eaten Harry?" Uncle Rupert asked. "I have some left over Chinese food in the refrigerator if you'd like it or I could cook something. I'm quite a right cook if I do say so myself."

"We stopped for dinner before we came to see you," Professor Lupin answered for him as Harry continued his study of what would be his home for the next two summers, until he reached of age.

Uncle Rupert cleared a space out of the corner for Harry's trunk and watched as Harry and Lupin struggled to move it in space. "I'm afraid it's only a one bedroom flat. The lease has almost expired. I was about to extend it but we could go look tomorrow for something a little more suitable." He began pushing the coffee table away from the couch. "I'm told there's some sort of hide-a-bed contraption in the couch. It should be sufficient until we get a frame and mattress."

"That will be fine," Harry said, taking his Firebolt from Lupin who had gone back to the car to grab the rest of Harry's things.

"Are you on the Quidditch Team?" Uncle Rupert suddenly asked, eyeing the broomstick in his hand. "After James came home from his first year, he was never without his broom. I think he would have slept with it, if Mum hadn't protested."

Harry waited for Professor Lupin to answer, but the werewolf was silent looking at Harry expectantly. "I play Seeker for Gryffindor," Harry answered. "Or I did," he corrected. "I was banned last year."

"You're welcome to stay the night, Remus," Uncle Rupert said, changing the subject. "I don't know if you've made any arrangements."

"Actually, I was meaning to talk to you about that, Rupert. Until Harry returns to school, there'll be a member of the Order watching him and I've been asked to stay in town," Lupin answered. At Uncle Rupert's look, he hurried to explain. "We took the same precautions at the Dursleys."

But Uncle Rupert was not going to be cowed so easily. "So it's a guardianship only in name then. He has to live here, but I don't get a say in his welfare."

Harry didn't know how to take Uncle Rupert. Apparently there had been some sort of scandal involved with is uncle and his father and the rest of the family had pretty much disowned him. He had been all set to hate the man. Loathing the fact that he was being forced to live with someone other then Sirius. It should have been Sirius. But now that he had seen Uncle Rupert, had watched the man do his best to be kind to him, it put Harry off kilter. After years of abuse from the Dursley's he'd just assumed that it would have carried over to Uncle Rupert.

"Perhaps this isn't the best subject to discuss in front of Harry," Professor Lupin insisted.

"Why not?" Uncle Rupert asked. "It's his life on the line. If he is meant to destroy Voldemort the knowledge must be inside him somewhere. How old are you Harry?" he suddenly asked.

"Sixteen," Harry answered.

"He's still a boy, Rupert," Professor Lupin insisted.

Uncle Rupert locked Harry's gaze with his own. "He's more then a boy, Remus. There are people in this life that are segregated for something higher then the rest of us. Buffy is one of those people. She goes out night after night, to fight off the undead and the evil that clings to this world like a parasite. Thousands upon thousands of girls before her have died, no one ever knowing the sacrifices they made to keep the world safe. She may play the cheerleader and she does put on a good show, but deep down she knows what she has to do. I've seen her in action and I've seen the cost of what it's done to her."

"Rupert this is different," Lupin tried hesitantly.

"There are differences, I won't neglect that. But Harry has to do something that no other can do. He only will have to stand up to that and when he does he can't have a number of voices shouting at him, telling him to do it," Uncle Rupert continued. "These people don't arise by chance, Remus. They're chosen."

Harry felt his stomach turn to ice. "I don't want to be," he muttered.

"What was that, Harry?" Professor Lupin asked.

"Nothing," Harry backpedaled, not able to voice the feeling of dread inside him. Not with Uncle Rupert and Professor Lupin watching him so carefully.

"Where is this Order located at?" Uncle Rupert continued to hound Remus.

Tiredly, the werewolf shook his head. "I can't tell you that."

"How can I contact them?"

"Rupert you must understand this is not something I can just divulge alone. There are oaths, protection spells, binding secrecy. It is this way for several reasons," Lupin tried to explain.

Harry blinked at him. He couldn't remember any rituals save for the revealing the address of Grimmauld Place. Only Professor Dumbledore, through any communication means, could reveal the location of the Headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix. Harry himself had read the address scrolled by the aged wizard before being able to find the house that once belonged to his godfather's family.

Uncle Rupert crossed his arms over his chest and eyed Professor Lupin. "I want to meet these members before I let any of them near Harry. You've had spies in the past, I'd like to make sure that we don't repeat a doomed history."

"I'll see what I can do," Remus said hesitantly. "We'd have to come to you. They wouldn't allow you to be brought to Headquarters."

"That will be acceptable," Uncle Rupert conceded.

The werewolf frowned deeply, causing his haggard face to look more grave. "We want the same thing, Rupert; To keep Harry safe. We aren't enemies."

"Then don't act as though I'm some unknowledgeable Muggle. I grew up in your world, Remus. I know it's dangers and those beyond it," Uncle Rupert said. He looked up at a clock hanging up in the small kitchen. "Dawn still isn't for several hours. I'm afraid I don't have another bed, will a sleeping bag be alright, Harry?"

"That will be fine, Uncle Rupert," Harry answered, thankful that Professor Lupin would be staying around a little longer.

Meeting the Slayer and her friends had thrown Harry into a world that he had not expected. Professor Lupin had tried to explain to him that American's could be somewhat unorthodox, but he had not quite been able to catch the strange attitude of American teenagers. Harry hadn't been able to catch anything but every other sentence and he wondered if he'd ever get used to living outside of England. Even for just the summers.

In the corner, on top of his trunk, Hedwig chirped from her cage. She had been cooped up inside that cage for nearly a whole day, and although she had suffered a worse fate at the Dursely's, Harry did not want to prolong her suffering needlessly. Clearing his throat he walked over to where Uncle Rupert was rummaging through a closet.

"Excuse me, Uncle Rupert," Harry said quietly.

Here was a sharp crack as his uncle hit his head. "Damn and blast," Harry heard a muttered curse. Uncle Rupert came out rubbing his head. "Sorry, Harry. Not used to having company. What was that?"

"Would it be alright if I let Hedwig out of her cage. She's been there for so long and she needs to spread out her wings," Harry hurried quickly, anticipating disappoint by right.

"Hm? Oh, yes. She should be quite safe in the air. We've yet to encounter any flying demons," Uncle Rupert replied cryptically. "Speaking of which, Harry. I think I should give a few ground rules." Harry stilled himself. "First off, if you are out alone, you must return before the sun sets. If you are out after sunset, you must be with either me or Buffy and have with you at all times your broomstick."

"My broomstick?" Harry questioned.

"Fast, aerial retreat is perhaps the best defense for you. I wish you could carry it with you during the day, but that would raise suspicion." He turned his head back into the close. "Ah, there it is." He popped right out, this time with a bound roll of thick cloth. "Here you are, Harry. Best get some sleep."

Uncle Rupert mounted the stairs up to his loft bedroom and closed the door behind him. Professor Lupin in the meantime had undone the sofa bed and had arranged his robe over his thin shape, the robe sufficient to keep him warm in the heat of a California night. Bending down next to the sofa, Harry unrolled his sleeping bag. It stretched out so far that the end went under a nearby writing desk. Removing his shoes, he pulled his t-shirt off and took the watch Sirius had ordered for his birthday from his pocket.

It was silver, circular in shape, and opened to the lone picture of Harry and Sirius to ever be taken. Each was wearing a silly Father Christmas hat, as their heads acted like the hands of a clock. Whenever the hour passed, Sirius' voice would tell a story about his and Harry's father's exploits.

Slipping into the sleeping bag, Harry clutched the watch at his side and desperately tried to sleep. But whether it was the strangeness of a new home or the fact that he had what Muggles called jet lag, he could not sleep. Instead he thought of what Uncle Rupert had said.

'These people don't arise by chance, Remus. They're chosen.'


	4. Chapter 4

It seems that I haven't been quite clear. This is towards the tail end of season one Buffy with Prophecy Girl not occurring until latter summer. There also seems to be a misunderstanding to who Giles is related to. He is James' half-brother through their shared mother. He is the step-son of Edward Potter, who raised him, but is bound by the destiny given to him by his father Jayson Giles. I hope that clears up any confusion.

Chapter 4: Bad Dreams, Sibling Rivalry Begins, and the Homeland.

One would suppose that Hell would be a fiery brimstone of unending torture. This was only half true for the ancient vampire known as the Master. Torture would be the least of it for the spawn of hell entrapped in an eternal heaven. The church was not nearly as ancient as the vampire wedged inside of it, but if any youth would have dropped inside of it they would have considered them quite close in age.

The church had once been beautiful before the world had swallowed it, with one large deftly crafted cross standing in the middle of the room. A tiny river, the result of cracked plumbing ran through the tiny church just below the Master's throne. Many a time the Master would gaze at that mocking stream that represented the world beyond his reach and imagined the day it would run red with blood.

He sat there thus, imagining it still with the boy vampire, the Anointed One, standing at his side. Occasionally, the Master's clawed hand would come out to brush the boy's head, as though he were a pet. The Master had dined the Anointed his knew favorite, since the Vampire Slayer had bewitched Angelus into slaying Darla, though he had not sired the boy himself.

The Slayer. It was her that he must have before he could escape his prison, her blood, the power that ran through it. Yet it was her that he could not have, could not grab, and must wait for.

The signs were all pointing to his ascension and the pieces were beginning to fall into place. His Anointed would lead the Slayer to him and she would die, allowing him to continue the work he had started so many years ago. He had waited so patiently and now only days kept him from his destiny and the fate of the Slayer.

And he could no longer wait. Each second seemed to tick in his mind from an unseen clock. It drummed inside of him with the sound of marching parade. He had heard them overhead, the sound of blood rushing through their veins, loud and pure. That blood he could hunt and must wait to be brought to him. And perhaps this was the most torturous of his prison's devices.

He heard the soft whimpering before his underlying had appeared with a blonde woman in his clutches. They were all blonde now. Again and again he would sink his teeth into the soft flesh of their neck teased by the vision that it would be the tiny blonde whose power would release him from his prison.

The young vampire, only forty years of dying, flung that girl before his Master and knelt next to her, fixing her in place. "I have brought you your dinner, Master," he proclaimed, wishing to fall into the good graces of he who would rule.

"Block the entrances, I wish for a chase," the Master called to the other vampires who sat in his court, waiting for his coronation.

"Block the entrances, I wish for a chase," the voice called in her dreams.

She saw the girl, perhaps a year or so older then herself released by a clawed hand, try to scurry out of the dark cavern, and rebuffed by unseen bodies. Water that leaked into the cavern. The girl ran and dodged, chased by that mocking voice. She fell into the water, face first, and fought to regain her footing. But another hand, translucent and almost skeletal grasped the long mane of blonde hair and ripped her head back.

It was impossible to not see the look of horror and fear that passed over the girls face as a pair of fangs descended and pierced the girls fragile skin. A sucking sound, like that when you reach the bottom of your Diet Coke, rushed into her ears. And a cry, staccato and piercing rented the air.

Buffy shot up in her covers, cold sweat causing her feather bangs to cling to her forehead. Her breath came in and out in rushed gasps. She looked around Willow's room, her mind not yet grasping where she was. The screaming was still blaring, only this time she recognized it as the trumpeting of the alarm clock. Willow had set it to make sure that Buffy did not sleep in and miss her appointment with Giles.

With a groan, Buffy reached over and smashed the clock, momentarily forgetting the powers of strength gifting a Slayer. Rubbing sleep from her eyes, she glanced around the room and found that Xander was on the other side of Willow's bed, sleeping in his own mound of blankets and pillows, his head cradled underneath one arm. Next to her, Willow stirred.

"Give me another ten minutes, Mom," the redhead muttered as she readjusted herself.

Buffy nudged her. "Willow wake up," she hissed into her friends ear.

The Slayer was nearly bowled over as Willows shot up in bed. "I'm awake. I'm awake." He dark eyes instantly snapped on the destroyed alarm clock. "What?"

"Sorry, Wills, I slayed the alarm," she said with a shrug. "It had to be stopped."

"Ugh," Willow let out the sigh as she fell back against her pillow. "Tell me again why we're up at the crack of dawn?"

"It's 10:00 in the morning, Wills," Xander interjected from his spot on the floor. "Hardly dawnage."

Buffy scooted out of the bed and grabbed her knapsack. "You guys can get the shut eye, but I've got to go to Giles'. See what's the what with the research." She was pulling a bottle of shampoo from her bag as she gave them a questioning look.

"No, we're with you Buff," Xander assured her, running a hand through his dark hair. "Avengers assemble."

It was more like waking the dead, zombies walking aimlessly through the house, their eyes glazed over. Xander actually ran into several pieces of furniture as they made their way to eat breakfast. Buffy quickly stashed her dream away for a more personal talk with Giles. She always was a little too wigged out about them and Giles had grown adept at forestalling a major Buffy panic.

Before sitting to eat a plate of left over pizza from the other night, Buffy phoned her mom too let her know she'd be home sometime in the afternoon. Joyce explained that she would be working at the gallery late and that she'd leave something in the fridge for her.

"Bye sweetie, I love you," her mother said too cheerfully over the phone.

"I love you too, Mom," Buffy said, before hanging up. She thought about her deal with Giles and how her Watcher had promised to think about revealing the truth to her mother.

Trepidation filled her at the thought. Right now her mother thought of her as just an innocent girl with a few social problems, a neg to say the least, but what would Joyce think when she learned that her sixteen year old daughter went out routinely to face the forces of darkness. Buffy cringed at the thought and went back into the kitchen.

She walked into the tail end of a conversation between Xander and Willow.

"I just think it's a little beyond weird that the Tweed Man never mentioned him," Xander was saying.

"You mean Harry?" Buffy asked, picking up a slice of cold pizza and bitting off a hunk.

Willow sipped at her orange juice. "He is allowed to have family, Xander. And you know Giles. He isn't Mr. I-Like-To-Share-My-Feelings. Besides it's a personal matter. I was actually thinking of inviting Harry to hang with us. You know, since he knows Buffy's big secret and all."

"Which is another thing. Buffy can't tell her mom, but Giles' nephew gets to be a player," Xander shook his head. "I don't get it."

Buffy swallowed hard. "I'm sure Giles has his reasons." Knowing full well the reasons for Harry and the revelation of her secret identity. No wonder he looked as though he were about to face Snyder in his office. She couldn't imagine having to face a Dark Wizard, the Cheerleader Witch from Hell had been enough. After that debacle, Buffy had stopped missing cheerleading.

She briefly wondered if Harry was truly Giles nephew at all. It seemed too much a coincidence to have this Volder, Vader, Voldemort or whatever it was he called himself, arise and Harry come to live with an uncle who just happened to be the Watcher for the Slayer. There was a little resemblance between the two with the way they spoke and their bespectacled features. Still, long lost relatives was just a little too Days of Our Lives, even for the Hellmouth.

Buffy finished her pizza, breaking little into Xander and Willow's conversation. They had diverged to a nostalgic path and Buffy had found it much safe to watch them tread and not try to intercede. Especially when it came to Cordelia. There was a torrid past that made her happy that she could not participate in the megavision flashback.

Besides it didn't matter if Harry was Giles' nephew or not. He was in danger and she had to protect him. Little did Buffy know that she was not only the protector to the world, but to the Boy-Who-Lived.

Giles let Harry and Remus sleep in. It had been the full moon not but two days ago and the Watcher knew how trying it was to his brother's friend. Harry had been up most of the night, Giles had heard him tossing and muttering in his sleep, crying out for Sirius or murmuring about a snake. Once Giles had thought to carry the boy up to his room, but he remembered waking James up when he'd had a nightmare and the resulting curse and thought better of it.

Instead he had thought to make breakfast for his two sudden house guests and had started a kettle and was now scrambling some eggs. Giles as usual had risen early in the morning, having resigned himself to the research that Buffy so desperately needed if she were finally going to be able to stop the Master. For Giles was sure that the ancient vampire was not about to give up on escaping from the Hellmouth and unleashing his hell upon this realm. Considering the near miss on the day of the Harvest, with both he and Buffy so ill prepared, he did not want to be caught so unawares.

Harry was the first to wake, stumbling blindly for his glasses that Giles had sat on his trunk for fear that one of them would smash them. Tiredly, he ran a hand through his messy hair and reached for his shirt. Some of the mannerisms were so much like James, that Giles couldn't help but smile dumbly at his nephew. For a moment it was like having his dear brother back again and that everything that he'd done in his tumultuous youth, had been nothing more then a terrible nightmare.

Harry seemed to walk to the kitchen without even seeing Giles and appeared as though he were going to start towards the stove when abruptly he noticed that food was already on the table. "What time is it?" he asked, looking momentarily worried.

"Just after ten," Giles answered. "Would you like some breakfast? Eggs, toast, and tea?"

Harry nodded and Giles took a plate from the cupboard and dished a liberal amount of eggs upon it. "Toast is on the table and the mugs are in the cupboard over the sink. Do you like jam on your toast? It should be on the second shelf inside the refrigerator."

"Should we wake Professor Lupin?" Harry asked as he settled with his tea and breakfast.

"He'll wake on his own," Giles assured him. "He needs rest more then anything right now. I assume you know that he is a werewolf."

"Yeah," Harry answered shortly. "I blew up my aunt once," he suddenly added.

Giles chocked on the tea that he'd been sipping. "Good Lord. Literally or figuratively? Too much time spent amongst the mystical."

"Like a balloon," Harry continued. "She really wasn't my aunt. She was Uncle Vernon's sister, foul thing. I never liked it when she came to visit. Always brought this detestable dog named Ripper."

The Watcher nearly chocked again. Was Harry threatening him? Giles supposed he was in his own veiled way, but why? "Yes, well, I don't have a pet so you should get on here."

Silence filled the kitchen, the Watcher and the Boy-Who-Lived, each finding their breakfast frightfully fascinating. As Harry was finishing his toast, Giles ventured to engage him in conversation yet again.

"I suppose you're looking forward to going back to Hogwarts? I've visited there a time or two myself, quite a remarkable castle," Giles babbled.

"Aren't you a Muggle?" Harry interjected.

Giles succeeded in not wincing, he'd always hated that designation. "Yes, I am."

"Then how is it that you could enter the magical world?" Harry asked, unkindly.

"I was given the opportunity because of my parents and my brother. I grew up in your world, Harry," Giles answered.

A light seemed to dawn on the boy. "So you are a squib?"

This time the Watcher failed, this word was even worse then the other. "I suppose you could say that."

Harry eventually took notice of his discomfort. "That must have been difficult," he said, insightfully.

It was at this point that Giles decided that the boy was as much an emotional roller coaster as was his Slayer. James had been too jolly of a boy, unable to think past the next great adventure. Something Giles had always envied in his brother; the opportunity to chose from moment to moment what you would be. And perhaps this was the biggest difference between Harry and James.

Harry could not chose whether he wanted to face Voldemort or not, his every breath was one that would draw him closer by degrees to the confrontation. Hatred filled Giles as he thought that Voldemort had not only stolen Harry's ability to chose but had raped James' of it as well; stealing away that next moment of wonder.

"I loved my family, Harry," Giles muttered. "I know that you'd rather be with Sirius at this time. It is unfair when the ones we love are taken from us, but I want this to work between you and I." And he really did. He didn't know when exactly he'd begun to love Harry, it had just happened over night. "I'd like us to be a family."

The green eyes gazed at him with a strange mixture of doubt and unyielding hope. Giles figured that Harry had never had a proper home, where love and affection were shared freely. Cold fear sat over the Watcher's heart, afraid that he would not be able to give what his nephew so obviously needed. Over the year's of Watcher training, Giles had become quite reserved working to make up for the Eyghon incident with Ethan and their friend they'd been forced to kill to stop the demon rising.

There came a knock from his door and not a breath later, Buffy, Willow, and Xander trooped into the room, saving Harry from an answer that Giles' himself was not sure of. He wanted to be a family to Harry but could he be?

Buffy and Xander were adamantly talking about the infernal Bronze and the latest lack-luster band, when Willow spotted Remus and shushed them both. Much to Giles' surprise, the werewolf rose straight away from the hide-a-bed and looked at the three teenagers.

"That's alright, I'm awake. Rupert if it would be alright, I'd like to use your shower," Remus said, seeming as though he'd been aware this whole time. Had he overheard the conversation between Giles and Harry?

"Top of the stairs, to your right," Giles informed him.

"Thank you," Remus said and followed Giles instructions.

Giles and Harry exchanged questioning looks before Harry shrugged. "He does tend to wake suddenly."

"Strange guy," Buffy interrupted, steeping around the sofa bed. She shuddered and Giles wondered if she could sense the wolf inside Remus. Vampire Slayer's were supposed to come equipped with all sorts of mystical bells and whistles. However, Buffy's all seemed to be attached to fashion.

He made a mental note to inform Buffy of Remus' illness.

Harry was currently glaring at the Slayer with malice. "He's not strange."

"And you're a good measure of this how?" Buffy asked with that feigned innocence that could get on anyone's nerves.

She had been more ill at eased lately, no doubt worried about the Master and whatever was building in the vampire world. Still, Giles would prefer it if his Slayer and nephew could get along and not be at each other's throats, especially since Buffy was to help protect Harry.

"Harry why don't you have some more breakfast while I speak with Buffy, Xander, and Willow," Giles suggested recognizing that stubborn glint in Harry's eyes that mirrored James'. He could see that it wasn't going to work however and was quick to make another suggestion. "Actually, if you aren't hungry, I'm sure Remus could do with a good breakfast. Why don't you fix him up a plate."

After several heartbeats of glaring, Harry resigned himself to the kitchen. Giles knew that he had just averted a small apocalypse, but some how figured that there would be more. He could not understand this contention between Harry and Buffy, two people in his mind shared much in common. Of course he had heard that it was the people who were the most alike, that often argued the most. It just seemed to have happened rather quickly.

"Buffy, I would appreciate it if you would not antagonize my nephew," Giles said as he sat on the edge of the sofa bed.

"Are you taking his side?" Buffy suddenly challenged.

"Taking what side?" Giles asked, as Willow and Xander looked between the Watcher and the Slayer.

"You don't think that Lupin is weird?" Buffy insisted. "Xander would you say that the guy wasn't exactly joe normal?" Xander opened his mouth to retort but was cutoff by the Slayer. "What do you think Will?" Again her friend tried but Buffy was in a rant. "Fine. Just fine."

The Slayer stormed off leaving both of her friend and Watcher quite perplexed.

Remus had the house to himself, thankfully. Harry had been invited by the Slayer's redheaded friend, Willow, to the Bronze and Rupert had gone back to the High School for books to further his research into the Codex and the prophecies concerning the Master. Remus had been almost tempted to join the Watcher, but knew that he needed to contact the Order of the Phoenix and inform Dumbledore that Rupert had accepted his nephew.

The werewolf was glad for Harry for he had overheard that conversation between Rupert and his nephew. Harry of course was cautious, having his hopes thwarted too many times to be overtly hopeful. Last night he had seen Harry clutching the watch Sirius had bought for his birthday and knew that the young wizard was far from healing from the death of his godfather. But Rupert seemed willing to give it a try and that caused the werewolf to reconsider his position on James' long lost brother.

Rupert had changed. There was no denying it in the way he looked, presented himself, and the atmosphere he was surrounded in. If it hadn't been for the hazel color of his eyes, so much like James', Remus would have thought him an entirely different person.

He could not Floo to the Order, for Rupert's fireplace had not been connected to the network, but he could apparate. Normally such a journey would have taxed him to greatly, but America did have a relaxing affect and Remus felt stronger then he had in a long time. Do take a look around the room, making sure that he was not visible by the world outside, Remus closed his eyes and magicked himself to his house in London.

There he grabbed a handful of Floo powder and walked into his foreplace. "Number 12 Grimmauld Place," he called, tossing the sand to the floor.

Before he could even peak his head out past the mantel, Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger were bounding towards him. No doubt they had been waiting hopefully for Harry to return. He saw their saddened expressions when he emerged alone.

"So that's it then. He's a bloody yank," Ron said gloomily.

"Oh Ronald, he's just staying there for the summer," Hermione attempted to scold him, but her voice sounded just as deflated as the redheads. "He'll be back in time for school." She rested a hand on his and patted it.

"What's his uncle doing in the States anyway?" Ron asked, not willing to give up as easily as Hermione.

Remus sighed. "It's a rather long story and not one that I'm at liberty to tell you. Has Professor Dumbledore checked in?"

To make Ron and Hermione feel more involved with the Order of the Phoenix, pretty much because they would find someone to become involved regardless. The Order had decided that they would be in charge of keeping track of those who came in and out of Grimmauld Place. It had been Molly's idea and a rather good one Remus' had thought, except that Ron seemed intent on not caring about what he considered parchment work or even more boring then Professor Binns.

It was Hermione who answered. "He's upstairs with Professor Snape in his office."

"Makes my day," Remus muttered under his breath. "I'll be upstairs." He could not take the solemn looks of the two who used to be his students. "Look I'll see if I can bring you with me tomorrow."

Their faces lit up. "Really?" Ron asked.

"I'll see what I can do," Remus repeated.

He mounted the stairs, feeling strange inside his Muggle clothing with only his cloak to remind him he was a Wizard. Knocking he was greeted by a, "Come in."

Professor Dumbledore looked up from behind his spectacles and smiled at Remus. "I take it young Harry is in place with his uncle?"

"He is Headmaster, however, Mr. Giles would like audience with the Order. He fears that not everyone is trustworthy," he said, glancing at the greasy haired potions master who sat in the chair opposite Professor Dumbledore's desk.

"A Muggle making demands," Snape sneered. "Who does he think he is?"

Dumbledore gave him a knowing glance. "He is more then a Muggle, Severus."

"And might provide us with a much needed ally," Remus continued. "He has been given a Slayer. And I would think that it would be a good idea to at least introduce him to you, Albus. Then you could decide from there."

A/N: Please forgive the mix up. I was recently reading Peter Pan and the Darlings live at Number 14.


	5. Chapter 5

Sorry about the mix up on Chapter 4. I had been reading Peter Pan at the same time I was writing it and the Darling's live at number 14 so they sort of just blended together.

Chapter 5: Angelic, Bronze Slaying, and more Guests

"Have you found anything?" a silky voice, that was at once as soft and as unobtrusive as the vampire himself, said.

Giles jerked from the Codex and found himself gazing on the one anomaly in the entire vampiric world. A demon with a soul, an Angel with a devil. The poetry was in the irony and it was only increased by the fact that the vampire with the soul happened to be in love with the Slayer. Although Giles could not help but feel saddened by the separation between Angel and Buffy, his relief at their good sense far outweighed any romantic ideals.

"Nothing," Giles said with a defeated sigh, not quite able to fully relax in Angel's presence. "It's like a wild bloody goose chase. I can't seem to decipher where this prophecy is going. The context is different then any demonic language I have ever run across."

"But you've had other things on your mind lately," Angel insinuated. "Or should I say one thing, one person."

Giles looked at him agape. "How do you know about Harry?"

"I lurk," Angel said with the cryptic tone that Buffy had once raged about. "There's more to him then just a boy." At Giles questioning look he continued, "Vampires can sense magic. He's very powerful."

Angel looked around, his brow heavy over his dark eyes, the pain of over a hundred years of slaughter weighing them down. Giles had also found this a part of the enigma that was Angel. From what he had learned about the vampire, he was hardly responsible for those horrors that Angelus had created, but it was the fact that Angel took that pain and made it his own that caused him to be more human in Giles' eyes.

The Watcher quickly realized what the furtive glances were meant to do. "She won't come here tonight. She's out with Xander and Willow."

"I know. That's why I came," Angel answered, though he still looked as though he half expected Buffy to barge through the door. "It's building Giles. Whatever the prophecy is to reveal, it's coming."

"Wouldn't happen to have a time frame would you?" Giles asked jokingly, but not quite able to keep the sarcasm out of his voice.

Angel actually cracked a smile. "Fraid not. I just thought I'd come by and offer my help. Not that I'm much of that, lately."

Giles nodded, knowing that there had been the tiniest bit of hope in the Vampire with a Soul that the Slayer would be here and that he'd be able to catch a glimpse of her. Instead he had designated himself the Slayer's hidden protector. This tiny realization propelled the Watcher to indulge in one romantic notion.

"She misses you," he said softly. "I know that doesn't change anything and I can't express how much it relieves me to know that you both have decided to part ways. But..."

"It's better this way." He scoffed, a strange breathless sound. "She is innocence and light. All I could offer her would be shadow."

"She long ago lost her innocence. You should know that better then anyone," Giles admonished, thinking of those many that Angelus had destroyed. "No Slayer can stay innocent."

Angel smiled, but this time it was sad. "She holds her heart out for all to see. Once the vampires and the demons of this world realize this, they'll crush it."

"You won't stop watching out for her," Giles ventured.

"We share a common goal," Angel agreed.

Giles coughed, slamming his hands into his pockets. "I have a favor to ask you. One that seems quite unfair considering the circumstances. But would you cast a glance in Harry's direction. There is a powerful wizard out to kill him and Buffy nor I can be there always to watch him."

"I will keep my ears and eyes open. I still have a few contacts inside the demon world. Magic has it's own affect on us. If this wizard comes, I should be able to give you the heads up," Angel assured him.

"Thank you," Giles muttered with a bow of his head.

If anything, Angel's head seemed to dip lower but there was a flash of humble pleasure that struck those angelic features. "Translate that text Mr. Giles, for both our sakes."

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The Bronze wasn't like anything that Harry had seen before. He'd expected a quaint little pub, very much like the Three Broomsticks inside of Hogsmeade, but he was met with flashing lights and electric noise. Everywhere teenagers were dancing to what could only be marginally considered music, gyrating as though they had been cursed to insanity. Harry glanced curiously at his two hosts and found that neither Xander nor Willow seemed at all put off by the display before them. In fact, Xander was doing a paler imitation of those out on the dance floor while Willow swayed back and forth in time to the music.

"Hey there's Buffy," Willow pointed out to a table near the stage. The lone occupant had her hair up and was wearing a leather jacket that seemed several sizes too large for her tiny frame. She was cradling a soda in her hands and looking mournfully at the horrid band without appearing to see it. "She's all gloomy gussed."

"Still jonesing for Angel," Xander said in disgust. "What does she see in him anyway?"

It was readily apparent that Xander fancied Buffy, though Harry couldn't imagine why. She was rather fetching with that blonde hair and her shifting eyes, but Harry also found her annoyingly empty. She seemed to care little about the duty placed upon her. Harry who'd recently been told that it was either his life or the life of another that would end a war found that he despised her attitude.

Willow smacked Xander in the chest. "Be nice."

"I'll be nicer then sugar," Xander assured.

Harry hung behind as they approached the table. Buffy smiled brightly at her two friends, missing Harry's presence. "Hi guys," she greeted.

"Hey Buffster." Xander moved from in front of Harry and the young wizard was made known to the Slayer.

"Harry," she said evenly.

"Buffy," Harry replied with equal tone.

Xander and Willow exchanged nervous glances. "So Buffy, want to dance?" Xander asked, too cheerfully.

"Sure."

Without a moments hesitation, Buffy abandoned her drink and headed off to dance with Xander. Harry felt the tension dissipate around him as he and Willow hiked themselves up on the high stools.

They sat in silence, Willow's gaze flicking from the dancing couple to Harry and back again. Harry was searching for a link to a conversation when a dark haired girl with engaging hazel eyes ambled up to the table.

"Hey Willow, want to introduce me to your friend," said the girl.

"Cordelia, Harry. Harry, Cordelia," Willow said with melancholy.

"So what bring you here to Sunnydale, Harry?" Cordelia said

Harry frowned. This girl didn't seem to be at all friendly towards Willow but was dripping all over Harry as though he were the newest broom model. "I'm spending the summer with my uncle."

"You're English," Cordelia said as though this was the greatest observation.

"Hey Cordelia isn't that Owen over there," Willow said, pointing out the guy that Buffy and Cordy had vied for early this year. "I heard he was really impressed with your end of the year cheer."

"Really," Cordelia bubbled.

"Yeah, I couldn't get him to shut up.

"Excuse me," Cordelia said, before bouncing towards the direction Willow had pointed. Harry grinned. "Thank you."

Willow grinned nervously at him. "So what part of England are you from Harry?"

"Surrey," he answered tersely. How he wished Ron and Hermione were here.

"Is it beautiful?" Willow continued to interrogate. "I've seen pictures of course, but the actual thing...wow. How does it compare to America? Never been outside Sunnydale myself, but I've always dreamed of attending Oxford once I've graduated."

Harry blinked at her. Had she breathed once during that entire line of sentences. However much Buffy irritated him, he couldn't help but find her friends amusing and oddly comforting. The way Xander pined after Buffy and Willow's stuttering speech.

Smiling now, Harry answered, "I'm not sure where to begin."

"At the beginning, a very good place to start." She blanched. "Don't worry, I won't start doing the Julie Andrews look-alike."

Again, he found it difficult to decipher the true content of her meaning. "Well, I..." he drew off as Buffy and Xander rushed up to the table.

Willow's brown eyes were lived on her friends. "What is it?"

"Duty calls," Buffy said shortly snatching up her small hand purse. She looked up from examining it's contents and met Harry's eyes briefly. "Bring him along. Giles would kill me if he got vamped."

"I'm not baggage," Harry cried indignant.

"Don't have time to argue," Buffy said. "Either your coming nicely or I'm dragging you."

Harry snorted but then caught the sincere glances all around him. "Fine, let's go."

Buffy stopped him with a hand to the chest. "You haven't seen this before, you don't know the score. So don't get involved. Stay with Xander and Willow. Or you're going to see the meaner side to Buffy."

For a moment Harry wanted to agitate her further, to see what all of them saw in this slip of a girl who had been called to fight vampires. But he did not. He had learned enough in Defense Against the Dark Arts and in his own studies to know that these vampires were no little danger. Buffy's urgency seemed to only indicate that this vampire had found a meal.

"I'll stay close," he said begrudgingly.

"Let's go," she announced.

It was then that Harry saw a change come over the empty girl. Gone were the flights of fancy that he had imagined running in her head and in their place stood a girl of steel. Her eyes brushed the crowd as they moved outside, analyzing them. It was a piercing gaze now, tunneled and not at all the opened gander she had carried moments ago. Her tiny body had changed too, it moved with lithe grace, one he had never seen before. For the first time he believed her to truly be a threat.

They came out into an ally, only then did Harry realize that they had not gone out the front entrance. A scream rented the air and Harry felt a coldness settle in his stomach. He had heard to many screams in his lifetime and many of them had been the high-pitch of a female. One of them his mother, protecting him as she was murdered.

Willow had to pull him foreword as he became lost in his past. They found the vampire and struggling girl, no older then Harry himself, down an adjoining alley, close to a chained fence. Buffy stopped her hurried pace at the entrance of the alley and ambled foreword as though she were walking through the grounds of Hogwarts.

"You know, love bits on the first date, not a really good impression," Buffy said, continuing her deliberate pace.

The face that turned to snarl at her, made Harry backpedal into Xander, his green eyes widening in fear. For a moment he felt as though Voldemort had been dropped right in the middle of Sunnydale, California, and had once again taking to draining the life's blood of others. But not a heartbeat later he realized the differences between this vampire and Voldemort. Where red snake eyes should have been there were beady amber lights, that glowed menacingly in the evening. The vampires face was contorted too, but not in the visage of a snake, but something more animalistic with teeth that were elongated to dangerous points.

"What is she doing?" he asked Willow, seeing that Buffy had no wand upon her. How else did she figure on destroying the vampire.

"Don't worry, she's done this loads of times," Willow explained.

Xander had a goofy smile on his face as the vampire uttered his threat.

"You will be next little girl," he said darkly. "I will go home full tonight."

"I don't think we're really your type. You definitely look as though you've backed on the years. Crows feet aren't as attractive as everyone claims," Buffy jibbed.

However, strange her banter appeared it did keep the vampire from sinking his teeth into the terrified girl. "And who are you?" the vampire asked.

Without warning, Buffy leapt several meters to land next to the vampire. "Vampire Slayer," she said, moments before she slammed her fist into the distorted face.

"Merlin's beard," Harry breathed.

In his ignorance towards the Vampire Slayer, Harry had assumed that she was a witch, and that she had used a wand to vanquish the vampires and demons. Never had he imagined that she physically pummeled them or that she would be forced to stand so ruddy close. It took his breath away as he watched her spin a kick at the vampire's chest.

While she kept the vampire engaged, Xander rushed to the girl side picking her up from the floor where she had fallen after the vampire had let her go. Tears coursed down her cheeks and she sobbed heart-wrenching. Xander picked her up from the ground gingerly and lead her away from the fight as fast as he could.

"You're alright now," Xander whispered to her. "You're safe."

He took the frightened girl to Willow and the redhead wrapped and arm around her comfortingly. "Go back inside the Bronze. We'll come back to walk you home."

"Thank you," the girl stuttered before running back towards the loud din of music.

Buffy still had her purse wrapped around her neck as she pummeled the vampire. Harry winced as she took a hit to the chin and staggered backwards. Without thinking he took a step to help her but Willow held him back. "She doesn't need help."

Buffy spun back to face the vampire this time with a strange piece of wood in her hand. It took a moment for Harry to recognize it as a stake and that it was the common usage for killing a vampire. She tossed a kick at him, her heal connecting with his solar plexis and the vampire stumbled backwards into the fence.

Raising the stake, Buffy pierced the vampire's chest with it and after a surprised screech the vampire burst into dust. It was silent for a heartbeat.

"Alright, Buffster. Down with the slayage," Xander crowed and offered a hand in the air.

Nonchalantly, Buffy slapped his hand, the look of the huntress gone from her features. "The best way to dust those hard to reach areas."

It had been brilliant. She had been brilliant. And Harry found his disgust for the Slayer to diminish by degrees.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

Remus stood inside his house with Ron and Hermione dressed in Muggle clothing. They were to travel by portkey, for Ron and Hermione could not yet apparate. Professor Dumbledore and Snape would be apparating later in the day once Remus had explained everything to Rupert. Taking a hold of dish towel, Remus indicated for his two former students to do likewise. Remus watched the clock as he waited for it to countdown to the fixed time for the portkey.

Despite his knowledge of it's ignition, it still caught him by surprise, and a gasp pushed it's way through his thin body as they were transported through space. They arrived in Rupert's bedroom, the one place Remus had felt it safe enough to port to, knowing that the Watcher spent little time in it save to sleep.

He had timed their departure so that they would arrive in Sunnydale at 12:00 in the afternoon, allowing Rupert and Harry time enough to get ready for the day. He heard them bustling about downstairs.

"I swear that girl takes nothing seriously," Remus heard Rupert say testily. "I tell her to keep you safe and she takes you on a bloody patrol."

"It wasn't like that at all, Uncle Rupert," came Harry's protest.

Knowing that this particular subject should be breached by Rupert, Remus quickly brought Ron and Hermione's attention to himself. "Let's go down, shall we."

They nodded and Remus feared that he could see Hermione's brain turning. She was all to clever for her own good. As they descended the stairs, he called. "Rupert, Harry, I've returned."

"Perfect timing we were just about to have lunch," Rupert called back.

Together they entered the small kitchen, Ron and Hermione itching with anticipation. Harry was facing the sink washing a apples, so he did not see them right away, but Rupert was fixing the table and caught them readily. Remus lifted a finger to his mouth to signal for Rupert to be silent. The Watcher looked curious but nodded.

"Harry would you mind handing me the plates?" Rupert asked casually.

Harry reached in to the cupboard and pulled them out. He turned to hand them to his uncle when he saw his two best friends and the plates fell numbly from his fingers. A silly grin spread across his face, the first one Remus had seen since Sirius' death. Hermione and Ron mirrored his reaction.

Suddenly, Harry realized the damage that he'd done and dropped down to pick up the plates. "Leave it, Harry. Leave it," Rupert said with a smile. "I take it these are friends of yours."

"This is Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger," Harry made introduction. "Ron, 'Mione, this is my uncle, Rupert Giles."

"A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Giles," Hermione said with all the propriety of a fine English woman.

Ron, however, had been caught up in all the strange devices that sat inside Rupert's house. "So this is what a Muggle household looks like," he murmured as he made his survey.

Hermione looked aghast. "Ron."

But Rupert only chuckled. "Perhaps I could give you a tour, Ronald."

"Wicked," Ron said. "Dad would go bananas in a place like this.

"Ron is from a pure wizarding family, Rupert," Remus offered. "His father is the care taker of Muggle Artifacts and their misuse. Two of the Order members will be here this afternoon to discuss your concerns. They also want to connect you to the floo network for emergencies."

Rupert took a deep breath. "I'd like Buffy, Xander, and Willow to attend if that will be alright." He did not only check with Remus but with Harry.

It still threw Remus to see Rupert Giles, the Ripper of his youth, acting so gentile. Not only that, but he seemed to treat Harry as though he were a member of the Order of the Phoenix, although all of the members had found that Harry was still far to young to be able to handle the emotional upheaval.

"Buffy?" Harry asked. Apparently, Harry and the Slayer had yet to make amends from the previous morning. "Alright."

"So tell me, Remus, who is coming?" Rupert asked as he took down more plates and grabbed two more apples from the fruit basket.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6: Hating Snape, a Family Affiar

"It's a toaster, Ron. We warm bread in it," Hermione said exasperated.

Since Uncle Rupert and Professor Lupin had retired to the living room to discuss the arrival of Professor Dumbledore and Professor Snape, Ron had contented himself with asking the function of every kitchen appliance he could spot. At first Harry had found his awe humorous but the novelty had long lost its luster, for both Harry and Hermione had to at least explain those same appliance numerous times. And even then, Ron displayed a great sense of doubt and fascination.

"Come finish your coffee, Ron," Harry said, hoping to distract his best friend for another few moments. "It's getting cold."

It was a physical effort, but Ron eventually sat at the bar next to Hermione and pulled his coffee to his lips. The three young wizards fell silent, each taking the time to enjoy their coffee. There was a tension hanging around them now, one that Harry knew was his own doing. Ever since he'd learned of the prophecy he could not seem to reach out to his friends as he once had. A barrier of destiny made known now separated them and he did not know how to break through to those that had always been his support. He would die or he would kill and there was no other way around it.

Hedwig sat in her cage on the counter and Harry intermittently and between sips, feed her some hamburger Uncle Rupert had pulled from the fridge. How simple it must be to be an owl? Delivering letters from place to place, your owner stroking your feathers lovingly. Never having to worry about the fate of an entire world. Flying was the only time Harry truly felt free.

He wondered if his father and Sirius had felt the same way. If there animagus form hadn't only allowed them to show their support of a friend with a terrible curse but also to break away from the complexities of human life. After all it had been in his animagus form that Sirius had been able to not only survive but break out from Azkaban; where the torrid emotions of humans, the fuel that Dementors fed upon, could not be found.

A dog, a stag, or an owl, never had to deal with lost uncle's, telling prophecies or shattered hopes. The more he thought about it, working to become an animagus appealed to him in ways that the magical world had not in a long time.

"He seems nice," a voice interrupted his reverie.

"Hmm?" Harry said, sitting up straighter in his stool, pushing away dark thoughts and attempts to escape them. It was Hermione and she was scrutinizing him with the look that she usually gave to her school books.

"I said, he seems nice," she repeated, tilting her mane of frizzy hair towards Uncle Rupert.

Harry shrugged. "Yeah, I suppose."

"Don't you like him?" Ron mumbled while crunching a biscuit he'd stolen off the plate Uncle Rupert had set out for them. Harry could have sworn that Ron had grown another hand span since he'd seen him last and was currently trying to make up the difference by stuffing himself to the gill.

"I don't rightly know him do I?" Harry snapped. "He's a complete stranger." He certainly didn't want to talk about this.

Hermione tossed her hair with a flick of her hand. "It'll just take time, Harry," she announced in a matter-of-fact tone, which only increased as the days grew. "You can't expect a perfect relationship."

"No," he drew out the word sarcastically. "Can't have one of those?"

"He seems to care for you," Hermione attempted to stave off one of Harry's rants. He was well aware that his friends had suffered a great many of them of late.

"Well that's the thing. He's either mollycoddling me or he denies my existence," Harry hissed. "We haven't spoken once about why he's been separated from the family. At least Sirius wanted to tell me the truth. Here I feel even more in the dark then I did the whole of last year."

Ron glanced at the two older men. "He's probably nervous, mate. I'd know how I'd feel if Bill suddenly told me he had a son."

Harry and Hermione looked at him completely aghast at his astute observation.

A deep red color flushed Ron's cheeks. "Hermione's not the only one who can be perceptive you know."

"Let's talk about something different. What's going on with the Order?" Harry asked.

Ron shrugged. "A bunch of homework, that's what it is. Every time someone comes in we're supposed to put a check by their name and when they arrived. Every time they leave, we're supposed to erase the check and put their departure. I tried to convince Hermione to enchant the parchment so it would know when they came in, but..." he dragged off glaring at their clever witch.

"You know we can't use magic out of school," Hermione admonished. "Besides I think Harry wanted something a little more interesting then our tracking assignment."

Thus began the one of the ill-fated and famous rows that Ron and Hermione could not live without. Despite that morbid bridge between them, Harry was glad to see that not everything about Ron and Hermione had changed. Ron's build was definitely beginning to bulk up and he was a good head taller then Harry now, his freckles seeming to disappear into a maturing face. Where Hermione seemed to be as slim while blossoming into womanhood. Harry couldn't remember seeing her looking so confidant and sophisticated. He, himself, felt as though he had been frozen in time unchanging as the sun rose and set.

Aunt Petunia's death seemed ages ago and at the same time just yesterday. He had never felt overly fond of his aunt and he knew that the feeling had been reciprocated but to see her as he had; lifeless and unyielding it had been a blow that he had not expected. In a twisted sort of way he felt responsible for her death. If he hadn't ran away from the Dursley's to go to the Shrieking Shack, he could have kept that burglar from shooting his aunt. Each decision he made whether altruistic or selfish seemed to get someone killed; from his parents to Sirius to Aunt Petunia.

He was walking on a tightrope where he knew where his destination would lie but the way there was clouded. How many more people would die before the final confrontation with Voldemort? And then whose death would be the last? His or the Dark Wizards?

It always came back to that lately. The rising worry of Voldemort. To have learned of the prophecy and to see how he still was treated as though he could not climb his own broom was irritating at best. At least that was one point in Uncle Rupert's favor. He seemed to think that Harry was well capable of handling the tasks that lay before him and wanted him to know what was coming in the future.

Harry supposed it had to do with Buffy and her own quest laid before her. The young wizard had lost his dislike of her the moment he'd seen her in action but he was still wary of her off beat manner. Did she not ever fear that the next fight might be her last? How could she stand the pressure of her destiny?

As though his very thoughts had conjured her out of the air, Buffy walked into Uncle Rupert's flat, followed by Willow and Xander.

"Buffy I do wish you'd knock," Uncle Rupert said, pushing the books he'd been going over with Professor Lupin.

"Keeps you on your toes," Buffy quipped cheerfully.

"Who're they?" Ron whispered, breaking out of his argument with Hermione.

"The Slayer," Harry answered. "There's a long speech, but to get to the point; she's the one girl in all the world to fight the forces of Darkness."

Ron's mouth dropped open and Hermione's expression was clearly scandalized. "You don't mean to tell me that tiny girl is going to fight You-Know-Who?" Ron hissed.

Harry shook his head. "No, she's got her own problems to deal with."

"Hey Harry-Carry," Xander said, waving form his spot next to Willow.

Ron was now doing his best not to break out in loud and repeated guffaws. 'Harry-Carry,' Hermione mouthed.

Harry groaned. "Xander, please don't call me that."

"Hey, he sounded just like you, G-Man," Xander taunted.

Uncle Rupert just rolled his eyes, but Harry caught the ghost of a smile twitch the edge of his uncle's lips. "Xander do be quiet."

"Shutting up, sir," Xander chirped happily as though Uncle Rupert has asked him to tea.

"So anything knew on the Master's I-Want-to-Bring-Hell-on-Earth plan?" Buffy asked, gazing at Uncle Rupert with that huntress expression.

Uncle Rupert's gaze flickered to Ron and Hermione. "Perhaps we ought to make introduction and explanations first."

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The two wizards arrived with a compressed pop, like the sound of opening a liter of soda. One was very aged, though by the boyish twinkle in his eye it was difficult to estimate his true age. He wore a very long beard that looked as though winter had taken roost on his chin. Over age dimpled cheeks and behind square panes of glass were clear blue eyes that seemed to draw you in with their constant amusement. He was dressed in midnight robes that shimmered with the light of stars.

By comparison his companion was the night to the aged wizards day. A constant gloom seemed to have drooped the features of a face that should have looked not much younger then Giles. Black hair hung limply to his shoulders and his eyes were a deep brown that expressed a constant dislike of the world around him. Lines around his thin lips told of a man who rarely smiled and found little pleasure.

It was easy to tell from Harry's description which was Albus Dumbledore and who was Severus Snape. Both Lupin and Harry had described the wizards to the Scooby gang, also explaining the danger to Harry's life and the threat of Lord Voldemort. Giles had given the famous Slayer speech that Buffy had heard far too many times and Harry excitedly told his friends of seeing Buffy dust a vampire.

Willow and Xander took the news of an evil wizard without much surprise, considering their recent experiences on the Hellmouth, but the wizard youth found Giles and Harry's descriptions riveting.

Upon the two wizards arrival, Buffy cocked an eyebrow at Giles. "That's new," she commented.

Lupin stood up to make introduction. "Professor Dumbledore, Professor Snape, may I present Rupert Giles, Buffy Summers, Xander Harris, and Willow Rosenberg."

Buffy felt a shudder as she scrutinized Lupin. There was something about that guy that gave her the creeps, though he seemed nice enough. Snape, the dark-haired wizard, frowned at the Scooby Gang. "Lupin what are these children doing here?"

"They are here at my request," Giles said coldly. He turned to Dumbledore and offered a genteel smile. "Shall we sit down?"

Willow took one of the few single seats in the living room, Xander sitting on the floor between her legs. Giles took the other comfort chair, Buffy choosing to stand with arms crossed behind him. The three elder wizards took the couch and Harry, Ron, and Hermione brought it chairs from the kitchen.

The elderly wizard spoke first. "Mr. Giles, Remus tells me you have some concerns about Aurors being positioned inside Sunnydale. I assure you, I wouldn't intrust just anyone with Harry's safety."

"I don't have the time or the inclination to beat around the bush, Mr. Dumbledore. From what Remus has told me and from veiled insinuations from Harry, I believe that you haven't been incredibly successful in divulging the character of certain members of your staff," Giles said very diplomatically. "Now, I can understand the confusion in the midst of a war, but I also want to make sure that my nephew isn't going to suffer the same fate as my brother."

"What would you suggest, Muggle?" Snape ground out between closed teeth.

"What are you twelve?" Buffy blurted out before she could stop herself.

The dark-haired wizard looked at her surprised. "Excuse me?" he asked, trying to sound imposing.

"Aren't you a little old for name calling," Buffy chided. Form his chair, Ron snickered. While Snape glared at Buffy as though he could melt her with his eye-beams. "You might want to try that glare on someone who cares and can't kick your ass back to England."

"Buffy calm down," Giles soothed. "There's no need to threaten Mr. Snape."

"And it would be untoward to provoke Ms. Summers any further, Severus," Dumbledore warned. "We are after all, guests of Mr. Giles."

The aged wizard was endearing himself to the Slayer at that moment. "Call me Buffy. My mother is Ms. Summers."

"What I propose is simply that I meet with any of the Aurors before they are established here in Sunnydale and that Harry has the same opportunity. Keeping him in the dark is only going to get him killed," Giles answered Snape as though the insulting incident had never occurred. "I will not ask to be a member of your secret Order because it's not really my place. However, it is Harry's place."

Out of the corner of her eye, Buffy saw Harry and his friends lean forward in their seats. It was only blindingly obvious that they had voiced this same concern before to the adults before them. Snape turned his menacing stare to the young wizards. Where Hermione and Ron recoiled, Harry only seemed to mimic the loathing in his green eyes.

Dumbledore gazed at Giles with a mixture of emotion. "I understand that you have a certain prejudice opinion of young men and women, Mr. Giles." This time his eyes flickered to Buffy. "However, the Slayer is trained to face the forces of darkness from an early age. Harry has only known his true calling for a few months."

"That's where you're wrong Dumbledore," Buffy interjected before Giles could answer. "I wasn't discovered by the Council until after I was called. I grew up thinking I was as normal as any other girl. The super hero gig is way overestimated. I faced my first big bad vampire just months after I was called."

Xander looked up at Willow questioning and the redhead could only shrug her shoulders. Buffy had never explained much of her life before coming to Sunnydale and this was the first that anyone had heard of her exploits. Except Giles, who had read Merrick's diaries from his time as her Watcher. It had been such a frightening time for her, that she liked to think that it had never happened at all. Destiny had screwed her over and had placed her on the Hellmouth so it had become harder to believe she could just put that past behind her.

"I can't be protected any longer, Professor," Harry interrupted quietly. "There is too much at stake."

Buffy wondered at the emotion inside his voice. It seemed that Harry felt everything was the end of the world and his appreciation of the world was on par with Snape's, the Snyder-wanna-be. Having Xander and Willow at her side and trying to catch of spark of life was the only thing that kept her sane through the terrible nights. If Harry was going to survive Voldemort and his Death Eaters, he'd have to start to realize what he was trying to save.

Buffy smiled at the redheaded wizard and the girl sitting next to him. "And Ron and Hermione too."

"Oh could we Professor?" Hermione asked.

Ron and Hermione looked to Lupin and Dumbledore hopefully.

"They do tend to insert themselves into dangerous situations regardless, Albus," Lupin said tentatively. "This way, we'd know what they are concocting."

"Headmaster, to allow children, especially Potter into the Order would be catastrophic," Snape protested. "You can't possibly consider taking this girl's comments seriously."

"Why is he here again?" Buffy asked, indicating Snape. "Cause not much with the helpfulness."

"Professor Snape is a key member inside the Order. He provides information from inside Voldemort's ring of Death Eaters," Professor Dumbledore explained.

"Need I remind you the last time Potter thought himself able to take on a project that should have been left to the Order. The Dark Lord almost obtained his desires," Snape was not about to let up. "He is too driven by emotion and has his father's impertinence." Harry's jaw clenched and he grew noticeably paler.

If Buffy had ever a doubt as to Harry being Giles' nephew it was erased by the Watcher's avid response to the dark-haired wizards comment. "Do not speak of James as though you knew him," Giles snapped, a threatening edge to what had always seemed such a warm tone.

"I daresay I knew him better then you," Snape shot back.

Lupin seemed to have taken notice to the different tone in Giles' voice. "Severus I would not go down this road if I were you."

Willow, ever the peacemaker, spoke up. "Shouldn't we get back to the dark wizard and what we need to do to help Harry?"

Giles' thunderous look softened at Willow's words. "Quite right. I think I've said everything that needs to be said. I agree with Buffy that Ron and Hermione should be able to join the Order as well. But again, it's not for me to say. I've found that someone with such a large weight on their shoulders does better when there are people to hold them up."

Xander and Willow beamed at this statement. "Darn tuttin'," Willow chimed.

"I will have to discuss this with the other members of the Order," Professor Dumbledore said sagaciously. "I will send word through Remus when we have come to a decision."

Giles accepted this with a brief nod. "Ron, Hermione, you are welcome to spend as much time here as you'd like. There's a prophecy that I have yet to translate and Buffy you should make an appearance at home."

"Mother detail before Slayer detail," Buffy taking Giles' hint that it was time to end this little meeting. "I'll check in after patrol. Wills? Xand?"

"Right with you Buff."

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Giles breathed a sigh of relief as Buffy, Xander, and Willow walked out. For a moment as he had gazed at Snape he had felt Ripper return in mass. He had never wanted to show them that side of him, least of all Harry and his friends.

Professor Dumbledore and Snape stood up from the couch. "It was a pleasure to met you Mr. Giles. I appreciate that you care so much for young Harry. I hope we can come to an agreement concerning his safety."

"That is my hope as well," Giles said, shaking the aged wizards hand.

Moments later Dumbledore popped out of existence.

"Your brother was no saint," Snape hissed.

"Few of us are. I'd wager a guess that you haven't been gifted a halo and wings," Giles said hotly. "Like I said before and apparently your tiny mind needs reminding; don't speak of my brother." Giles was inching toward Snape and the potion master had little choice but to back up. "If I hear word one about James, you'll find that my disposition can become quite disagreeable."

Snape didn't pull his wand, much to Giles' relief but he looked as though he might with any more provocation. Not that Giles' minded much. You didn't grow up with James Potter and not learn how to dodge a curse or two.

"Are you threatening me, Squib?" Snape hissed.

Giles smiled, a merging of amusement and a feral edge. "Oh, you'd know if I was threatening you."

"Rupert," Remus muttered a warning. "This isn't the place."

"Stay out of this, werewolf," the potion master snapped, his voice dripping with disdain.

That did it. Giles balled up his fist and smashed it into Snape's pale features sending the wizard the few remaining feet towards the walls. Part of him just starred at his fist as Snape struggled to his feet, unsure if it had truly been his that had struck the wizard. The other part, the part that used to be known as Ripper, couldn't help but grin.

"You want to call him that again?" Giles asked.

Snape had snatched his wand out of his robes, but he did not use it. Giles turned around to see that Remus, Harry, Hermione, and Ron all had snatched their own up and had them pointed at the Professor.

"Stand down, Severus," Remus said evenly, somehow managing to keep a diplomatic calm.

"Just like your brother," Snape said before he too, popped out of existence.

"Pillock," Giles cursed as he swung around to face Remus.

The werewolf was shaking his head with winsome air. "I thought you had put away Ripper?"

"I despise that bloody prejudice. Did you ask to get bit? I think not. You're still a human being save for the full moon. You should be treated with respect," Giles railed. "Besides he is too old to be using insults like that," he added, remembering Buffy's outrage when Snape had called him a muggle.

Remus smiled broadly. "James and Snape could never get on, I guess it runs in the family."

Giles turned to Harry about to ask if that ruddy prat had given him a hard time, when Harry suddenly doubled over, clutching his forehead in pain.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7: From Bad to Worse and the Breakfast of Champions

It was though someone had taken a hot poker and had jabbed it into Harry's brain, twisting it around to prolong his agony. His eyes were shut tight against the pain but bright lights danced in front of them nonetheless. Beneath him the floor became unsteady and his knees buckled under him, tossing him to the ground. His stomach roiled and threatened to let loose his recent lunch.

He'd felt this pain before but only once. On the night that Sirius had died, Voldemort had entered Harry's mind in an attempt to get Dumbledore to kill Harry in order to save the world from Voldemort. It was the link he carried with Voldemort, the other part of the prophecy that the dark wizard had missed. By attempting to kill Harry he had marked that young child as his equal and had bestowed upon him a measure of his own abilities. It had sealed the doubt of the prophecy and had made Harry the target of a mad man.

A shiver raked through him, an effect of the pain, and he curled up inside himself clutching his knees and digging fingernails into skin. He could not hear the cries that he sent echoing through the tiny flat, but he felt Uncle Rupert drop down next to him. Arms wrapped around his trembling body and though they did not cause him any more pain they could not protect him from it.

"Remus, what's happening?" Uncle Rupert's voice tore through the din of fiery agony.

"It's his connection to Voldemort," Hermione answered in a shaking voice.

The arms tightened around him. "Connection! You never mentioned a connection."

Harry felt knives drive through his skull, the pain was going to kill him. Was this Voldemort's newest weapon? Would he kill Harry without ever having to raise a hand against him?

"How are they bound?" Uncle Rupert changed his questioning.

"I..I..," for the first time, Hermione could not answer.

Professor Lupin had no other choice. "When Voldemort went to kill Harry it was a part of the prophecy, that scar marked him as his equal. Now neither of them can live fully while the other survives."

Uncle Rupert was rocking Harry in his arms. "Voldemort is doing this?" he asked softly and Ron gasped at the name.

"He's trying to take over Harry's mind. He's done it before. When Sirius was killed," Lupin answered hurriedly. "I do not know how to block him out."

"You cannot block me out," Harry's lips moved but he could not recall making the sound. "I am inside of him. Soon we will be one." The voice was cold and slurred. Not at all like Harry's changing voice that was attempting to settle into manhood.

That's when bile rose in Harry's throat and he heaved, spilling the contents of his stomach all over Uncle Rupert's tweed suit. His eyes fluttered in their sockets and he felt his once pounding heart begin to slow.

"Harry can you hear me?" Uncle Rupert's voice commanded. "Listen to me Harry. He's possessing you. Possessions are unnatural. Voldemort does not belong in your mind, you can force him out."

"H...ho...how?" Harry stuttered out against the pain and this time it sounded like his voice, tremulous, but his.

"Shut up, Potter," his mouth moved again of it's own accord.

Uncle Rupert shifted Harry in his arms. "Remus hand me that knife."

"What?" Professor Lupin asked surprised.

"Just do it," Uncle Rupert snapped.

There was only silence now and Harry reached for any memory from that night Sirius had died for how he had been able to force Voldemort from his mind. But the pain made concentrating unbearable. Tears were trailing down his face and he tasted their salt on his lips as Uncle Rupert hiked him up.

There was a grunting sound and a moment later a sickly sweat smell filled Harry's nostrils, causing his already queasy stomach to roil even more.

"Blood of my blood," Uncle Rupert intoned in a ritualistic tone.

Something viscous and warm dripped onto Harry's forehead. The liquid was like a balm to his aching head and the snakelike creature pursuing through his mind shifted.

"Heart of my heart," his uncle continued. "By the blessing of Filla I command thy enemy to depart."

A scream tore through Harry's mind and from his already raw throat. Whatever Uncle Rupert was doing it was causing Voldemort pain or distress. "What power is this?" Voldemort's words mimed out of Harry. "You cannot defeat me."

"Blood of my blood," came his uncle's words again, this time stronger and full of frightening depth. "Heart of my heart. By the blessing of Filla I command thy enemy to depart."

"Depart!" Uncle Rupert roared.

"Noooooo!" Another scream curdled the air. It echoed off, however, as though whoever had uttered it had been torn away by a swift wind.

Harry was freed. The pain simmering to a memory. His heart, which moments ago had been beating faintly, was now building up to its usual staccato. The cold sweat that clung to him had mingled with his bile and a wretched stench turned his stomach. He shivered, spent from his recent ordeal.

What had Uncle Rupert done to rid him of Voldemort?

His hand went up to brush his forehead and to clear it of the sticky liquid, but Uncle Rupert's calloused one stopped him. "Our blood must remain mixed, Harry," his voice gave the enigmatic explanation.

"Ron take Hermione outside. You should be safe until dusk, but I doubt it will take that long for Remus and I to clean him up," Uncle Rupert was telling his friends.

"Vampires," Harry said softly.

Uncle Rupert sounded as though his amusement was forced. "It's still day light outside Harry," he reassured. "They'll be safe. Just worry about getting better."

"Will he be alright?" Hermione asked, tears in her voice.

Harry cracked open his eyes and saw that Uncle Rupert, Professor Lupin, Ron and Hermione were all gathered around him with concern written on ever inch of their faces. "Go on, 'Mione."

"Ron and I will be just outside if you need anything," Hermione told him, looking as though she wanted to be as motherly as Mrs. Weasley.

Ron looked pale, but he'd been through this many times having shared a dorm with Harry for five years. But neither Hermione nor Ron had been there with him when Voldemort had taken over his mind on the night Sirius died. "Yeah, mate. Just shout if you need anything."

The door opened and closed, the two young wizards leaving Uncle Rupert and Professor Lupin alone with Harry. He suddenly felt as foolish as a young child who'd wet his sheets. Especially since he'd emptied his stomach all over his uncle. However the Watcher didn't seem to notice, his green-brown eyes fixed on Harry's forehead.

"Can you sit up, Harry?" Professor Lupin asked.

Painstakingly, Harry levered himself to a sitting position. "How?" he asked unable to get his mind around what Uncle Rupert just did.

His old professor and his uncle exchanged a quick look. "Let's worry about that later, shall we?" Lupin said.

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Harry was cleaned up and sleeping quietly in Rupert's bed and the Watcher's hand bandaged when Remus dragged the older man downstairs. He was livid, more angry then he could ever remember being save for the day he thought Sirius had betrayed James and Lily.

"What in the bloody hell did you just do?" he hissed with a dangerous growl in his voice. "What I had to," Rupert answered simply, walking to the couch and pulling the Codex on to his lap. He pulled his glasses off his face with a violent tug and pretended to be intrigued with the text that was still giving them a problem. "Perhaps you ought to tell Ron and Hermione that it's alright to come in."

Remus was not to be daunted by Rupert's supposed facade of calm. "If you've used dark magic on him, so help me, Rupert."

"What would you have of me, Remus? Filla is the goddess of blood, she binds the family together. When I called upon her, I made it so that I could use her power to push Voldemort out of Harry's mind. Without her, Harry would have died. You want to tell me that was wrong. Be my guest, I've heard the recriminations before. But if forced to do so again, I wouldn't hesitate." He put the book aside and replaced his glasses. "While we're on recriminations. Why didn't you tell me about Harry's connection to Voldemort?"

"Rupert..." Remus started.

"Don't feed me the company line. I wary of these games, Remus. Dear Lord, don't you people understand what's at stake here?" Rupert's face was screwed up in a maddening expression of absolute understanding and rage of the fact that no one else seemed to see it as he did. "You are hiding in the shadows as Voldemort is and he's better at it."

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Outside on the flats garden patio, Hermione and Ron sat on the stone bench outside of Mr. Giles' door. Hermione doing her best not to overhear the argument between Harry's uncle and Professor Lupin, Ron cocking his ear with an anxious look in his eyes.

"Reckon we should stay out here for a little longer," he suggested.

Hermione nodded. "You don't think they'll hurt one another do you? After what Mr. Giles did to Professor Snape."

"The git deserved it, if you ask me?"

"That's not the point, Ron."

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Remus knew that Rupert wasn't sharing everything. They were both playing at subterfuge. "What do you mean? 'He's better at it'."

"I may not have been in the wizarding world for years but I do have contacts Remus. As soon as I found out Harry was going to be staying here, I checked up on the previous war against him," he looked down at his clutched hands. "I needed to know specifically how James died and why. No word of a prophecy but they did tell me of Sirius' betrayal."

"It was Peter. They switched Secret-Keepers right before the spell was acted out. Sirius didn't betray James," Remus supplied, having a deep desire to defend his old friend to Rupert.

Rupert could only sigh long-suffering. "That's exactly my point, Remus. You've been playing covert games with a man who breeds them. He knows what he's doing and he isn't going to be tripped up by the likes of a rag-tag allotment of wizards. Harry stopped him the first time by a miracle. They rarely happen twice."

"I don't understand what you expect me to do," Remus fumed softly. "You can't come into the tail end of this horror and start telling everyone how to act. This isn't your business, Rupert."

As soon as the words left his mouth, Remus regretted them. Perhaps out of all the Marauders, he had understood Rupert Giles the best and knew how keenly he had feared his destiny. Remus at the time had been afraid of his own, a werewolf so ill-treated by the wizarding society. To see Rupert so well put together astonished him and he knew that the Watcher would do everything in his ability to keep Harry safe.

"Harry is every bit my business. I will not make the same mistake that I made with James. It should have been me who was Secret-Keeper. It would have been, if not for my idol stupidity," Rupert growled out. "Now either you're with me in this Remus, and I'd say you'd fare a great deal better here then you would in the wizarding community, or you go back to your Order and tag after Snape."

Remus smiled at this last statement. He had been surprised to see Harry, Ron, and Hermione backing him up to protect Rupert from Snape. But apparently their collective dislike towards Snape had overruled any sort of trepidation regarding the Watcher.

"I'd rather face the unpredictability of your Hellmouth," Remus said wryly. "James wasn't the only one who couldn't stand the berk."

"Good. I'm not sure how long the barrier I created will last," Rupert started again, his mind strategically working out loud. "In theory the mixture of our blood, as long as it remains on the assaulted area should seal the spell. But there are always counter spells and I wouldn't put it past Voldemort to find a way around a goddess."

"Nor would I," Remus said, slumping into the nearest chair. "However, it will take him time. I wouldn't be surprised if only a percentage of our world knew the entire truth of magic. That Muggle's can access a great amount of power. Certainly the Ministry wouldn't be entirely comfortably and Fudge would be in a right snit."

"I think the first thing that needs to be done, is you tell me everything that you know about Harry and Voldemort, everything you suspect," Rupert said.

"What about your prophecy?" asked the werewolf. For a long moment he had forgotten that Rupert had a job to do. "Won't Buffy be in later to see how the translation is going?"

"Damn and blast, I do need to return to that," Rupert said, removing his glasses and running a tired hand down his face. "This isn't exactly my finest hour is it?"

"You saved Harry's life. Despite my previous words, I'm thankful for what you did and I know James would have been," Remus answered.

Rupert's rugged face softened. "I appreciate that."

"I'll give you a hand. I'm not much on translating, but anything in English you need referencing, I'd be happy to help."

"But first," Rupert said rising.

"First?"

"You'd better get Ron and Hermione home."

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

It was early in the morning when Giles finally found the text that he'd been looking for. His eyebrows hiked up on his forehead as his head jerked from book to book. "This is it," he announced proudly though there was no one to hear his triumph. Remus had fallen asleep hours ago.

He had left his flat so as not to accidently wake either Remus or Harry, leaving instructions with Remus to not let Harry wash away the blood from his forehead. The school library had become his retreat of late and he was thankful that he had retired to his place of employment for it was here that he had found the code for translate the text.

Overhead, through his office's skylight, the first rays of morning light fell upon him in an ironic parody of his newfound epiphany. It also lit up the now cold cup of tea that had remained untouched through his long hours of studying. His suit, which he had exchanged for the soiled one the previous afternoon was now rumpled and there were dark circles lying under his eyes from lack of sleep.

"The Master will rise...." he translated, his head moving to the Oracle of Tibbier to check the translation. "Yes, yes, that's it." He nodded, feeling overly pleased with himself at this moment. "And the Slayer..." he trailed off, that breath of contentment being knocked from him with a gut-wrenching punch. His mind wouldn't allow him to accept what the Codex was telling him. The Oracle of Tibbier must be wrong, this couldn't be the fate of his Slayer. But his mental objections were quietly thwarted by the tiny bit of common sense still left to him.

He rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. "Good Lord."

Reaching for his tea, not caring its temperature, his hand paused as the floor beneath him trembled ominously. Staggering to his feet, he rushed to press himself against a door jamb.

MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM

The Master stood before the magical barrier keeping him entombed in the holy prison, his hand pressed against its invisible wall. He could feel it weakening, it would only be a matter of time now for the Anointed One to lead the Slayer into Hell. His head was swimming with the power that he felt rushing through him.

"My time has come. Glory! Glory," he cried. The rattling earth stopped and he turned to his Anointed. "What do you think? 6.4?

BBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBB

With a jolt, Buffy rocketed from her bed. A residual cloud hung over her, the barest whispers of a dream she could not remember.

"Buffy?" Mom called rushing into her room. It was only then that she noticed the shaking walls and the trinkets sitting on her desk edging closer to the lip.

Mom grabbed her sleep slackened body from the bed and pulled her to her bedrooms door jamb, covering her with her taller form. Huddled under her mother, Buffy waited out the earthquake and struggled to clear the cobwebs from her mind. She would have to call and check up on Xander and Willow, Giles would be at the library; he was always at the library lately. Probably with Harry and Lupin in tow.

As the quaking earth settle, Mom moved away from her. Joyce's long swan-like neck craning up to see if there was any structural damage. "I think it's safe. We should probably call the power and light companies before we turn anything on."

"I'd better go check on Giles," Buffy muttered.

"Mr. Giles?" her other asked questioningly. How Buffy had managed to keep Mom's suspicions of Giles from blaring out to accusations of child abuse, Buffy could never know. Her mother was usually so cautious about the people Buffy hung out with. The Slayer supposed that it had to do with Giles being an authority figure, a librarian nonetheless.

"Yeah, um, he said he'd be there early, you know with the book cataloging thingy and someone should really make sure he's safe," Buffy stuttered out an explanation.

Her mother gave her a proud look and gently caressed her cheek. "Alright, honey. I'm so glad that Mr. Giles is such a good influence on you. Do you want some breakfast before you leave."

"No thanks. I'll just do the breakfast of champions. Or for the people really too busy for breakfast," Buffy said with a smile.

"Coffee," Joyce said knowingly.

"Coffee."


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8: Revelation

"Hello. This is Giles, uh, Rupert Giles. I need to see you. No, I realize that. Come after sundown. Good. I'll see you then." Giles hung up the phone with a sigh, rubbing his eyes tiredly.

"You know most teachers leave during the summer," a slightly mocking, feminine voice interrupted his thoughts.

Removing his hand, Giles looked up to see the self-proclaimed, techno-pagan, and computer science teacher, Jenny Calendar. She was a petite woman, perhaps a hand full of years younger then himself, with a classic style that captured a modern edge. Last school year, she had made it her point to remind Giles constantly of his antediluvian nature but had been integral in throwing a demon out of the Internet. In her hand was a file folder, brimming with what looked like printed e-mails.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, tiredness and the worry of two young peoples futures leaving no room for tact.

"Gee, Rupert, you always wake up on the wrong side of the desk?" Miss Calendar asked.

He shook his head, closing the Codex in front of him. No matter how many times he checked and rechecked, he could not dispute the signs that were manifesting. The end of the world was coming and Buffy would be the first to die.

"Sorry, I'm not up to socializing just now," he offered a lame excuse.

Those dark engaging eyes scrutinized him. "Something's up, Rupert, and I'm guessing you already know what it is."

Startled he glanced up at her, the glaze of fatigue momentarily leaving him. "What do you know?"

"Well, I have been surfing the 'Net, looking for unexplained incidents. You know, people are always sending stuff my way." She started to ruffle through papers inside her file. "They know the occult's my turf. Now, here is the latest. A cat last week gave birth to a litter of snakes." She paused dramatically. "A family was swimming in Whisper Lake when the lake suddenly began to boil. And Mercy Hospital last night, a boy was born with his eyes facing inward. I'm not stupid. This is apocalypse stuff. And throw in this morning's earthquake, and I'd say we've got a problem. I would say the end is pretty seriously nigh."

It seemed all too tempting to allow her to share his burden, but he knew he had to be careful. She was offering him even more proof that the Codex prophecy was coming to pass. He stood up and made to straighten his suit. "I don't know if I can trust you?"

"I helped you cast that demon out of the Internet. I think that merits some trust." When she saw this was hardly a moving argument, she continued, "Look, I'm scared, okay? Plus, I've got this...this crazy monk e-mailing me from Cortona about some Anointed One."

That's what finally won Giles over. An agent of the Master would not have brought up such an obvious failure. "The Anointed One? He's dead."

"Someone's dead?" Miss Calendar asked confused.

Giles decided to diver this line of conversation. "Who is this monk?"

"Brother Luca, something? Keeps sending out global mailings about a prophecy," she answered off handedly.

'Which one,' Giles thought disparagingly. "I need you to talk to him, find out everything he knows."

Her back straightened in that way women had when a man gave them a command. "Look, Rupert, you haven't told me jack, so what's with the orders."

Time was slipping through his fingers, he didn't have enough to explain everything to her. "Just do it. I'll explain later."

"You'd better."

"Rupert," Remus called from outside of his office. "I got your message. Harry had to replay it, darned muggle contraptions."

Miss Calendar arched a dark brow but followed behind him as he walked out of his office and to Remus and Harry. Thankfully, the blood that protected his nephew from Voldemort could be hid behind his mass of messy hair. He could only imagine the type of questions that would raise to the techno-pagan's mind if she saw it. If only he could perform such a ritual for Buffy.

"Remus, Harry, this is Miss Calendar, she's a teacher at the school," Giles quickly introduced. "Remus Lupin's an old friend of mine and this is my nephew, Harry Potter."

"Nice to meet you," the computer science teacher greeted. She gave Giles a furtive look. "I'll go get that information you wanted, Rupert."

"Yes, thank you." He was thankful for her discretion.

"Hi, Buffy," Miss Calendar said and Giles snapped around to face the Slayer.

"Hey, Miss Calendar. Just helping Giles with cataloging," the girl quickly covered for her presence.

Miss Calendar shrugged. "Cool, see ya."

Buffy gave the library a cursory glance. "Wow, the damage looks fairly structural. Are we safe here?"

"Buffy," Giles breathed, unable to mask his relief at seeing her. Both Remus and Harry were looking at him strangely.

Fear graced the Slayer's face as she patted it gently. "What do I have something on my face?"

"No," he quickly covered. "And yes we're safe." He pointed up to the stacks where the foundation had been cracked. "But probably best not to go up there."

"How ya doing there, Giles? Get much sleep last night?" Buffy asked.

"I've been working," Giles stuttered.

An intense expression fell over the Slayer's usually carefree face. "Anything new?"

"Nothing yet," he lied, wishing he could lie to her forever.

Her face fell with a flash of disappointment. "Well, okay. Just wanted to make sure you weren't buried under a pile of rubble or anything. I guess I can't put it off any longer. I have to meet my terrible fate."

"What?" Giles snapped, disbelieving his ears.

"Spring cleaning. Mom hasn't actually caught on that it's a little late for that," Buffy said with a pout. "See ya later."

Giles started forward. "Uh, Buffy, you wouldn't want to take Harry along would you?" At both teenagers dubious expressions, he hurried along. "There are a few things I need to discuss with Remus. It shouldn't be too long." He forced a cheerful note.

"Uncle Rupert, I wanted to ask you some questions," Harry tried to divert Giles' diversion.

"Later," Giles said sharply and could not help but feel Remus' stare bore into him.

Buffy grabbed Harry's arm. "Come on, Harry. Your uncle's in his pre I-need-a bajillion-cups-of-tea-before-I'm-presentable state. Give him a few hours, he'll be right as puppies."

"I think that should be right as rain," Harry corrected as Buffy lead him out.

Remus swung on him so quickly that Giles fear an attack. "Rupert what's going on? I've never seen you like this before. Albeit it's been years, but this is not normal behavior."

"I need you to take Harry and leave," he ordered. "It's not safe for him here at the moment. You should leave tonight, there's no telling when it might actually occur."

Remus grabbed his arm and forced Giles to face him. "No telling when WHAT will occur?"

"The vampire known as the Master will rise tomorrow night and he will kill Buffy. When he does he will open the Hellmouth, spewing untold legions of darkness into this world."

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

"Mom, I'm back," Buffy cried out as she lead Harry into her house. It was a quaint house along Revillo Drive that reminded him very little of Privet Drive and the nightmare years he had spent there.

"Good, we can start on the garage," Buffy's mother called out. "How was Mr. Giles?"

"Okay. A little put off by the quake but he'll live," Buffy answered, coming into the kitchen with a hesitant Harry in tow.

Buffy's mom looked very much like an older version of her daughter. Not overly tall, with a petite slim body. Her mane of curly hair was tied back with a bandana and she was rearranging the cupboards, taking out the older canned goods and putting them to the forward. "Why did we even buy canned liver?" her mother asked dumping the can into the garbage.

"You were in one of your health moods. Remember? 'Liver is brain food.'" Buffy reminded.

The older Summer's was still turned away from him, shaking her head. "That's fish, hon."

"Same difference," Buffy said with a shrug. "Mom, I've brought home a friend. He's Giles' nephew, Harry. I hope it's okay for him to stay here for a while."

Turning around, Mrs. Summers offered him a hand. "Sure. Nice to meet you, Harry."

"Thank you for having me, Mrs. Summers," Harry said politely.

Buffy rolled her eyes. "No, on second thought, I brought home James Bond," she jibbed wryly.

"Don't listen to her, Harry. She's just thrown by anyone who displays a sense of decorum," Mrs. Summers teased.

"I have decorum. I have so much decorum, it's coming out of my ears," Buffy defended.

Mrs. Summers chuckled. "Well, you and your decorum might want to start on the garage."

"You know what goes best with garage cleaning?" Buffy asked, giving Harry a sly wink. "Pizza."

"Already on its way," Mrs. Summers answered.

"You're a good mom," Buffy said cheerfully.

"The best."

"Ready to attack the dreaded garage monster, 007?" Buffy asked.

Harry had actually seen a number of James Bond flicks through Dudley's continual TV observation. "In her majesties service," he said, trying to mimic the usual cool tone of the secret agent and bowing to Mrs. Summers.

"My hero," Mrs. Summers intoned dramatically.

Buffy snorted. "You two want to be alone?"

Harry blushed so deeply he feared that he had gone as red as Ron's hair. "Let's go," he said in a hurry. He heard Mrs. Summers chuckling as the exited out of the kitchen and into the garage. "I like you're mom."

"I do too," Buffy grunted flinging up the garage door that revealed towers of stacked cardboard boxes. "She's the best thing about my life, the only normal thing."

For a boy who had lived a lifetime of forced normalcy, he could not see the attraction. The Dursley's had seemed to find anything outside the realm of their definition akin to abomination. Strange that a Slayer would have a similar obsession.

He sighed. "I really don't understand you."

"I'm one tile short of that funny little cube with the colors, that Xander always tries to figure out but eventually abandons," Buffy said with her usual perk. She was reaching for one of the higher boxes that she could not quite get. With a bit of grandeur she gestured to the box. "Mind helping a vertically challenged girl out."

Harry nudged past her and stood on tip toe to retrieve the box, handing it gently to her. "So you're an unsolvable puzzle?" he asked.

"Don't act like Mr. Straight and Narrow," Buffy shot back a little heatedly. "You're being hunted down by a dark wizard and you've got blood on your forehead." With his last statement, Buffy whipped her hand out to brush his bangs back. "Don't you ever want to live a normal life? One without worrying about the next thing to go bump in the night."

Truth be told, Harry had never really thought about it. There had been little time to consider what if's in his life since he had found out he was a wizard. Not since he'd gazed into a mirror and seen what could have been; the images of parents he'd never know. Professor Dumbledore had cautioned him to leave that mirage alone and to look to the future, that hoping to change the past would do nothing but trap you inside of it; waste you away in both form and spirit.

"I'd rather know who I am," Harry muttered, mainly to himself. "Not a legend, not a myth, but Harry made flesh. Sometimes I feel as though I'm one step behind myself." He snorted. "Not the most comprehensive statement."

"No I get it. Two peas in a pod. If that pod was in a really sucky place," Buffy said. "Neat."

Harry smiled then. He still couldn't understand her, couldn't understand why she wanted to ignore a very large piece of her life, but he felt he was getting a little closer. He dropped down next to her, looking into the mounds of junk that the Summers' women had not been able to discard but had no room for and so had been sent to the garage.

She looked up at him as they began to empty the contents of the box, Harry wondering at the intricacies of women. "So what's with the blood? I assume Giles had to perform some kind of spell. Unless you're going for a new fashion statement."

That was the one thing that had been plaguing Harry's thoughts since Voldemort's attack. How had a muggle been able to cast out one of the most powerful wizards alive? Buffy had just confirmed that Uncle Rupert had indeed performed a spell, but it was unlike any he had ever learned about. He wished that he had been able to stay awake long enough to ask Hermione about it but the attack had left him drained.

"Voldemort and I have a connection. The first time he tried to kill me, he gave me this scar," Harry explained, pressing back his bangs and using his index finger to lightly trace the lightning bolt that had split open last night. He was carefully not to disturb the now crusted mixture of his and Uncle Rupert's blood. "Because of the magic involved we can now get into one another's mind. He did that last night. It...it almost killed me, but Uncle Rupert somehow forced him out."

"Wow. No wonder he was Mr. Grumps-a-lot this morning," Buffy ventured. "Why does this Voldemort have a big yen for your death? You don't seem the showdown type."

Harry froze. Save Uncle Rupert, no one in Sunnydale had been told the length of the prophecy concerning Harry and Voldemort. Even Ron and Hermione had not yet learned that the prophecy that they thought destroyed was being stored in the memories of Professor Dumbledore. To tell her would be to admit it to someone who could share his same horror, but at the same time the surreal state of it would become so much more substantial.

"I don't know," Harry lied. "When he tried to kill me that first time, he killed my parents. They had been fighting against him." He contrived a shrug. "He must want to finish what he started."

"He'll never stop coming," Buffy said, suddenly serious. "They never do."

"No he won't," Harry agreed solemnly.

"Buffy, Harry, pizza's here!" Mrs. Summers called out, interrupting the tension with her sweet voice.

Buffy jumped to her feet. "Good we could do with a little copping food."

BBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBB

It had taken the rest of the afternoon to finish the garage and the sun had just dipped below the horizon when Buffy and Harry went up to the bathroom to wash up. Both were covered in cobwebs, dust, and grease, but the garage had never looked better. Having spent a few hours in dredge work with her Watcher's nephew, Buffy couldn't help but feel connected. They both had a rotten lot and each was just trying to deal with it in their own way. It wasn't Harry's fault he'd been raised in the land of the repressed.

To her surprise Harry could crake a joke and regaled her with tales from his school days, while Buffy exchanged all that had occurred to her and her friends since arriving on the Hellmouth. It had been a great delight to narrate the tales of 'Xander and the Bug Lady' or 'Xander becomes a Hyena'.

"Willow actually fell for a demon who was in the Internet," Buffy started a new one, her voice hushed so that her mother couldn't over hear. She switched on the faucet with her head turned towards Harry.

The wizard balked. "On the computer? You can't be serious."

"Totally serious. It was this thing with a book and scanners and fizzy hair," Buffy explained. "I was almost afraid...that...she..." she drew off, her eyes locked on the sink.

Her hands were paused outside of the faucet. Where she had expected to see clear crisp refreshing water, blood oozed out, pooling at the base of the sink.

"What is it?" Harry asked from behind her. His head poked over her shoulder when she didn't answer and a gasp escaped his lips. "Is that?"

"Oh yeah," Buffy answered. "We got to get to Giles."

The Slayer and the wizard ran down the stairs and Buffy rounded into the kitchen. "Mom, I think the pipes are broke. That water was coming out all mucky upstairs. I'd call a plumber in the morning."

"Wonderful," Mom said with a dramatic eye roll.

"I'm going to walk Harry home," Buffy told her, grabbing a coat. "I'll get Giles to drive me back."

"Okay, don't stay out too late," her mom said absently. A mound of bills poured out before her.

Buffy pushed Harry out the door and started walking down the path in quick staccato steps. Harry had to run to keep up with her. "Doesn't your mum think it odd that you're walking ME home?"

"Let's just say I have a reputation of taking care of myself," Buffy answered. "Plus it helps that I walk Xander and Willow home."

They traveled the rest of the way in silence, Harry falling back from Buffy's hurried pace several times only to double his efforts. Sunnydale High was as eerily quiet as it ever was, the timed sprinkler's causing a repetitive hissing sound were the only things to disrupt the silence. Harry stopped, gasping for breath outside the entry way that Giles had purloined them a key to.

"I always wondered how you guys got in and out of this place," Harry breathed in between gasps.

"Sorry for the hurried pace," she said, just noticing Harry's discomfort.

"I'll be okay," he shook of her concern.

She knew he was lying. The struggle with Voldemort the other night had left him looking a little paler then she remembered from previous days and the clotted blood on his forehead gave him the stunning look of a vampire. If it wasn't for his labored breathing she could almost believe he was one.

"You can rest once we get inside," informed the Slayer, twisting the knob open and dashing inside with the wizard.

Harry looked around, swallowing several more gulps of air. "Are you sure Uncle Rupert's still here? It's very dark."

"Giles usually only keep his desk lamp on when he's studying," Buffy replied. "The library isn't far from here."

Walking into the library, she was proven right by the warm glow of Giles' lamp. "Giles, you are not gonna believe this," she muttered as she and Harry walked forward.

"It's clear. It's what's going to happen. It's happening now," Giles said tightly from his office, stopping the Slayer and the wizard. Buffy and Harry exchanged concerned glances.

That's when another figure stepped into Buffy's view and she felt her heart leap into her throat. "Angel."

"Who?" Harry asked, but Buffy shushed him with a hand.

Angel had his head turned down, studying one of Giles old tomes. "It can't be. You've gotta be wrong." The vampire's tone was intense, full of foreboding.

"I've checked it against all my other volumes. It's very real," Giles argued, his usual calculating tone whipped out by sudden emotion.

Angel tossed the book in his hand to the desk. "Well, there's gotta be some away around it."

Irritation was an all time high in Giles voice. "Listen. Some prophecies are a bit dodgy. They're...they're mutable. Buffy, herself, has thwarted them time and time again, but this is the Codex. There is nothing in it that does not come to pass."

"Then you're reading it wrong," Angle growled.

"I wish to God I were," the Watcher was nearly yelling now. "But it's very plan. Tomorrow night, Buffy will face the Master, and she will die."


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9: Defying Prophecy

Harry's stomach plummeted as though he had ran and dropped off the highest tower of Hogwart's. A sudden fear clenched his heart and he grabbed Buffy's arm trying to pull her away from the horrid words that had just snapped angrily out of his uncle's voice. But as hard as he tried he couldn't budge her.

"Well, have you verified the text?" the tall, dark-haired man, that Harry guessed was Angel, asked.

That's when Buffy began to laugh. It was an eerie sort of sound in the wake of such morbid news and the empty look in her eyes caused Harry to briefly consider enveloping her in a hug. But Buffy was now allowing him to move her away if only slowly. The young wizard all to well understood the gaunt expression and the utter disbelief that had now crossed over what were usually happy features.

Uncle Rupert and Angel must have heard Buffy's laughter because they stepped out of the office, Angel coming out towards Buffy. Uncle Rupert gazed at her with the same sort of concern that Harry remembered from last night. He looked as though he were unable to leave the safety of his office, standing just inside the door.

Buffy stopped then and turned to face both men. "So that's it, huh? I remember the drill. One Slayer dies, the next one's called. Wonder who she is." She looked over to Uncle Rupert with brimming tears. "Will you train her? Or will they send someone else?

"Buffy I..." Uncle Rupert tired but couldn't find the words.

"They say how he's gonna kill me?" she asked tears in her accusation. "Do you think it will hurt?" Those drops of salt water came freely now.

Both Harry and Angel reached to console her but she leapt out of their range. "Don't touch me!" she snapped, but it was towards Angel. Harry doubted if she remembered he was in the room with her. She snapped back to Uncle Rupert and this time there was anger in her voice. "Were you even gonna tell me?"

"I was hoping I wouldn't have to. That there was some way around it. I..." Uncle Rupert wasn't going to be allowed to continue.

"I've got a way around it. I quit," Buffy snapped, trying desperately to regain control of her emotions.

Angel took a tentative step forward. "It's not that simple."

"I'm making it that simple. I quit! I resign, I'm fired, you can find someone else to stop the Master from taking over," Buffy was nearly yelling now. Her attempt to get control failing horribly.

Uncle Rupert removed his glasses, something Harry realized he did when he was broaching a difficult subject. His voice was level but kind as he explained. "I'm not sure that anyone else can. All the signs indicate...."

Buffy picked up a book from the wood table and chucked it at him. "The signs? READ ME THE SIGNS!" She took another one and tossed it with all her might, but it did little due to her emotion induced aim. "TELL ME MY FORTUNE! YOU'RE SO USEFUL HERE WITH ALL YOUR BOOKS! YOU'RE REALLY A LOT OF HELP!"

"No, I don't suppose I am," Uncle Rupert said, his cowed expression pulling at Harry.

As much as he sympathized with Buffy, he also felt a sudden empathy for Uncle Rupert and Professor Dumbledore. He'd reacted very much in the same way Buffy was now when Sirius died and he'd learned of his own prophecy. Professor Dumbledore had taken his tantrum very much as Uncle Rupert was doing now.

"I know this is hard," Angel said, taking another step forward.

"What do you know about this?" Buffy snapped. "You're never gonna die."

Angel acted as though she had slapped him and Harry once again found that he couldn't understand her words. Why wouldn't Angel ever die? "You think I want anything to happen to you? Do you think I could stand it? We just gotta figure a way...."

"I already did. I quit, remember? Pay attention!"

"Buffy, if the Master rises..." Uncle Rupert stuttered out.

"I don't care," Buffy proclaimed, grasping the silver cross at her neck. "I don't care." She ripped it off. "Giles, I'm sixteen years old. I don't wanna die."

Without another word Buffy spun on her heal and ran out of the library leaving Harry, Uncle Rupert, and Angel alone in silence. It was Harry's uncle who eventually broke the silence. How he could remain so bloody calm was beyond Harry.

"Angel, would you mind taking Harry back to my flat," the Watcher asked.

"What?" Harry asked sharply. "We have to do something for Buffy."

Uncle Rupert shook his head and leveled a stern glare at Harry. "We, as in you, aren't going to do anything. Remus is taking you back to England, he's getting your stuff together even as we speak."

Harry was feeling his own anger coming forward. The same anger he'd kept bottled all summer. "Uncle Rupert I can help. Buffy shouldn't go through this alone. I understand that better then most."

"This is not under discussion. You will go back to England with Remus tonight," the older man snapped. Angel watched the confrontation between uncle and nephew afraid to step in but ready to act if something should be decided.

Harry ground his teeth. "You can't force me to do anything."

It was then that Rupert Giles' deflated. "Harry, if Buffy should fail tomorrow and the Master rises..." he drew off unable to complete this thought.

"Armageddon will come forth," Angel finished. "Believe me, kid, I know what the Master's capable of. It's better if you are as far away from here as you can possibly get."

"And if she doesn't fail?" Harry demanded.

"It's still safer for you to be with the Order," Uncle Rupert answered. "You have your destiny to fulfill, Harry. You have to survive."

Now it was Harry's turn to laugh. "That's all we are is it? Just pawns to be thrown in the front of whatever everyone else can't handle. I have to kill someone or die. Buffy doesn't even get that option. And all you can say is go home to England and pretend none of this happened. Well, you don't know me very well, Uncle Rupert."

Harry made to bound out of the library but was stopped by Angel's hand. "It's not safe alone," the dark-haired man cautioned. "Where you headed?"

The hand on Harry's arm wasn't warm, in fact if there had been no pressure on it, Harry wouldn't have thought it was there at all. The man's dark eyes reminded him vaguely of Sirius but only more haunted. Was this man a former prisoner of Azkaban just as Sirius had been? That would explain the pale complexion and the evasive stature. But he didn't have the thin figure that Harry remembered from Sirius' escape. "Who are you?"

Instead of answering Angel glanced over at Uncle Rupert. The Watcher nodded mutely. "I'm a vampire," Angel answered.

"But?" Harry questioned slowly backing away from Angel. "I thought."

"He has a soul, Harry," Uncle Rupert answered. "He doesn't hunt human's. He won't hurt you."

Harry wasn't sure how this made a difference but if Buffy trusted him, when her whole purpose was to rid the earth of vampires, then he supposed he could give Angel the benefit of the doubt. Buffy's previous statement to Angel's mortality abruptly made so much more sense and that thought reminded Harry of the obvious care that the vampire showed the slayer.

'You think I want anything to happen to you? Do you think I could stand it?' He suddenly wondered what would happen if he were to die in his struggle against Voldemort. Who would mourn him? Hermione, Ron and his family, Remus and Professor Dumbledore, but not one who truly loved him as a son. Not like Sirius had. For all his speeches about making things work out, Uncle Rupert was sending him away.

"I'll try to make it home tonight before you and Remus leave," Uncle Rupert said in a lame tone.

Harry didn't turn to face him. "Don't bother," he said harshly.

"Giles, call me if you hear anything from her," Angel said.

"I will," Uncle Rupert assured. "Harry. Please, you must understand, if I could take this away from you and from Buffy I would, but I can't."

Harry glanced back. "Can't or won't?"

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"Preparations must be made," the Master had ordered.

The Anointed one, along with the cadre of vampires had gone out into the night and had captured several prey. The young virgins squealed as they were dragged to the Sunnydale High School. It was just below the school where the Master resided inside his holy cage and the proper rituals had to be made before the Master could rise and bring forth his might. This consisted of five blooded victims to be arranged into a pentagram near the Hellmouth, preferably over it.

Breaking in to the high school was child's play and the Anointed One lead them into the silent building.

"Let them go," he ordered as he felt they were near enough to gateway to hell.

With screams that would have shattered a human's eardrums, the victims ran and the vampires had their game.

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Willow needed to talk to Giles. Something was wrong with Buffy. No matter how many times she'd called last night and this morning, Mrs. Summers had told her that Buffy couldn't come to the phone. She had tried to get a hold of Xander but he was out, possibly already on his way to the library.

She hoped that was the case and that Xand and Giles were already cracking down on Buffy's mysterious actions. She was usually the social butterfly, flitting so quickly that Willow and Xander had a hard time keeping up with her. And Willow had never known her to be sick. Something wasn't right or her name wasn't Willow Rosenberg.

As she entered the school and headed towards the library she wished it wasn't.

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"Hi, honey, you all right?" her mother asked stepping into her room.

Buffy had pulled out the family album and was leafing through pictures of her youth, pictures that were barely two years old but felt as though they should have been decades. One was of her as Homecoming queen, the youngest Hemery had ever seen. Her long blonde hair had been done in an upsweep with curls framing her face, her dress was a stunning silver that set of her sun-kissed skin. That had been one of her happiest days, a time before she'd learn of her dark destiny. How would it be like to go back to that time, ignorant of vampires and demons as most of the citizens of Sunnydale were.

Forcefully, she glanced up from the photo. "Sure."

"Probably just full from that bite of breakfast you nearly had," Mom said in a leading tone. She sat next to Buffy and moved a strand of hair from her face. "Feel like telling me what's on your mind?"

Buffy scrutinized the photo again. "Mom, let's go away," she said with a forced smile, flipping through the photo pages to those that marked vacation memories. "Like we used to."

"What?" Mom asked laughingly, startled by the abrupt change of subject.

"Anywhere, just for awhile, all weekend!" Buffy had to convince her otherwise there would be no more family vacations for her.

Mom started to shake her head. "Buffy I...."

"No, it'll be great! You and me, a mother-daughter thing... We can talk about all the embarrassing things you love to bring up."

Taking the photo album, Mom started her own perusal. "You know the gallery's open on weekends. Besides school's coming up and we should go shopping for new clothes. That'll be fun."

"Mom please," Buffy pleaded.

"Actually, I already did a little shopping myself," Mom announced and rose from the bed, crossing over to Buffy's closet. "I thought maybe you could wear it to homecoming." She opened the closet and Buffy found herself gazing at the most beautiful dress. She had seen it at the mall only the other week and had secretly tried it on. In that moment she had felt like an angel far away from the night. "I saw you eyeing it at the store. I figured," her mom said with a shrug.

Buffy was suddenly next to the dress and her mother, reaching out a hand to caress the delicate fabric. "Mom, we can't afford this." Oh, but how it made her love her mother. A simple gift just out of love. No strings attached.

"The way you've been eating, we can afford it," her mother joked.

"It's beautiful," Buffy murmured.

"So any guy out there whose caught your eye," came the excited question.

Usually, Buffy would have rolled her eyes at her mother's enthusiasm. "Th...there was someone but.."

"But he isn't interested," Mom finished.

"It's, uh, complicated," Buffy said. "Besides I can't go to Homecoming."

"Why not? Is it written somewhere," Mom said with a long-suffering tone. "Every girl deserves to get all dolled up and go out for a night, just like Cinderella. Freshman year in college, it was homecoming, I didn't have a date. So I got dressed up and went myself."

Buffy cracked a smile. "Was it awful?"

"It was, for about an hour," Mom affirmed.

"Then what happened?"

"I met you're father," her mom said with a smile.

This was a story that Buffy had never heard before and it made her smile deepen. "He didn't have a date either."

"No, he did. And that's a much funnier story that you will not get to hear." Her mom hugged the album, a far away look in her eyes. "Oh, but it was a beautiful night."

"And you had your whole life ahead of you," Buffy said, lost in the fairy tale.

"Yeah," Mom breathed and broke the spell.

Buffy turned away from the dress. "Must be nice."

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"You should have left already," Giles argued as he handed Harry Hedwig's cage. "Remus, I'll get in touch with you as soon as it becomes safe for you and Harry to return."

Giles grasped his brother's old friend's hand. "I'm very sorry to hear of this, Rupert. Against better judgement, I'd like to side on hope."

The lump that had become a permanent fixture inside his throat since he'd learned of Buffy's fate was once again pushed down with a swallow. "Yes, hm, hope." Giles stepped over to face Harry. His nephew avoided making eye contact. Without seeing the green color to his eyes, it was all too easy for Giles to have James pop into his mind. More then ever he was satisfied with his decision to send Harry away. He only wished he could send Buffy with him.

"I know you're upset with me and that you feel that I'm betraying you, but this is what I feel is best," he attempted to smooth things over. "I need you safe."

"And if you die too?" Harry asked coldly. "I've been orphaned three times already. What's one more death, right?"

"Harry," Remus remonstrated.

Giles shook his head and forestalled any further comment with a hand. "It's alright, Remus. Harry's entitled to his opinion. Remus, might I have a word."

Leading him away a distance, Giles turned to Remus. "I want you to promise me that you'll look after him, if I don't make it."

"Of course, Rupert," Remus said. "That goes without saying." The werewolf's keen pale gaze settled on him. "So why are you saying it? What are you planning Rupert?"

The Watcher affected innocence. "I..I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't play me for a fool. If I didn't recognize the signs of a plan in your eyes I wouldn't be able to call myself James' friend. He had the same look. So does Harry for that matter. Now you tell me the truth or I'm not going anywhere," Remus announced stubbornly.

With a sigh, Giles ran a hand through his hair. "I was wrong, Remus. No child should face the dark. I will do what I should have done long ago."

"What's that?" Remus asked with a frown.

"Defy prophecy."

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She had been trying on her new dress when her mother had run into the room with news about Willow on TV. Clad in the prom dress, Buffy had rushed off to see her best friend. She had expected to see Willow ready to crack down on whatever had caused this disturbance, but she wasn't prepared to see the redhead frightened out of her wits.

Sitting inside Willow's room, Buffy offered her friend a listening ear.

"I've seen so much," Willow muttered, tears pooling and spilling over her eyes to traced paths down her smooth cheeks. "I thought I could take anything. But, Buffy, this...this was different."

Smoothing a lock of hair back against Willow's head, Buffy gave her a reassuring smile. "It'll be alright."

Willow shook her head sadly. "I'm trying to think how to say it so that you can understand."

"It doesn't matter as long as you're okay," Buffy spoke as though she were talking to a tiny child. Willow was as scared as Buffy had ever seen her. More scared then that first night they had met, when she had been meant for the Master.

The redhead's lower lip began to tremble. "I'm not okay. I knew some of those people. I go there everyday. And when I walked in there, it wasn't our world anymore. They made it theirs and they had fun." She dashed the tears away with the heel of he hand. "What are we going to do?"

Buffy's heart began to pound until it was the only sound she could hear, drowning out Willow's soft sobs and the cars passing merrily on their way just beyond the room's windows. Soon that beat would stop and if she didn't keep the Master from rising the world of heartbeats would join with it.

She stood up from Willow's bed, shaking but full with determined strength. "What we have to." A stuttered breath hissed through her teeth. "Promise me you'll stay in tonight, okay?" She waited for Willow's nod before heading out to face her destiny.

"Oh, Buffy," Willow stopped her. "I like your dress."

"Take care." If she were going to die tonight she didn't want Xander or Willow to suffer the same fate. This was her tribute to her friends, to lay down her life.

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"Rupert what are you doing?" Ms. Calendar asked, observing as Giles began to load weapons from the cabinet to the black satchel.

Giles shook his head, grabbing several knives off their hooks. "Nothing."

"So, this Master guy tried to open the Hellmouth. But got stuck in it, and now all the signs are reading that he's gonna get out, which opens the Hellmouth, which brings the demons, which ends the world," Ms. Calendar did a recap of his recent explanation.

He shoved the selected knives into the bag. "Yes, that about sums it up."

"The part that gets me, though, is where Buffy's the Slayer," Jenny said wonderingly. "She's so little," this part was said in a voice that might have been used on a child.

Strangely, her prattle was comforting. "Did you get in touch with that brother Luca chap?"

The dark-haired teacher tossed her head back and forth. "Hmm. As far as I can tell, no one can. He's disappeared. Did send one last global though. A short one."

There was a pause and Giles realized his colleague would not a little push. "What did it say?"

Jenny pulled out a bible. "Isaiah 11:16, which I dutifully looked up."

"'The wolf shall lie with the lamb, the leopard shall lie down with the kid, the calf, the lion and the fatling together, and the little child to lead them,'" Giles recited easily. His education had extended to all ancient text.

Ms. Calendar didn't look surprised. "That's kinda warm and fuzzy for a message of doom."

He barely heard her words, he was checking the contents of his bag, making sure there wasn't anything he didn't yet need. "Well, that depends where he's leading them to. Aurelius wrote of the Anointed One. 'The Slayer will not know him, and he will lead her into Hell.'"

"So Luca thinks the Anointed is the kid," Jenny was quick to deduce.

"If the vampire that Buffy killed was in fact not the Anointed, the it may well be," Rupert agreed.

Ms. Calendar hopped off the desk. "Well, then we need to warn her."

Rupert supposed he couldn't keep his true intent from her any longer, especially if he hoped to use her as a distraction for Buffy. If he could change Buffy's prophecy then just maybe that meant that Harry's could be. It probably meant his death, but he'd do it for both his children.

"I don't intend on involving her at all," Giles informed.

A frown creased Ms. Calendar's classic features. "What do you mean?"

"Buffy is not going to face the Master. I am."

"No, you're not." The abrupt arrival of a new voice made both adults jump. "So, I'm looking for a kid, huh? And he will lead me to the Master?"

Giles approached her. He saw the fear in her eyes, not daunted by the determination. It was those eyes that Angel had meant, the windows to her soul. She did wear her heart out for all to see and he wanted to protect it every inch as Angel did.

"Buffy, I'm not gonna send you out there to die. Now you and Harry were right. I've waded around in these old books for so long, I've forgotten what the real world is like. It's time I found out." He only hoped he sound as determined as she looked. Frankly, he was frightened out of his wits. A normal vampire he might have had a chance with, but the Master....it was like dealing with a shadow.

A fond smile graced the youthful face. "You're still not going up against the Master."

"I'm made up my mind," he said proudly.

"So have I," she said simply.

"I made up my mind first. I'm older and wiser than you, and just do what you're told for once. Alright!" It made his heart flutter sickeningly that he actually was tempted to accept her words. To not go into the night.

"That's not how it goes. I'm the Slayer," she said with a hint of amusement. After all, she shouldn't have to be reminding him of this.

Still he would not bulk now, not after her sudden bravery. "I don't care what the books say. I defy prophecy, and I am going. There's nothing you can say will change my mind."

"I know," and there was an extra meaning in those two words, a hint of gratitude towards him that he could no understand. Nor did he get a chance to consider them because in the next moment he felt something slam into his cheek and everything went black.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10: Prophecy Girl and the Boy-Who-Lived.

"I fancy beans on toast, do you fancy beans on toast?" Professor Lupin asked as he and Harry stepped out of Number 12's fireplace and into the entry hall.

Harry shook his head. After using a portkey that Professor Lupin had been given from Dumbledore to Remus's house, Lupin had been creating too many unauthorized portkey's for the minister's comfort, they had flooed to Grimmauld Place. A couple days ago, he probably would have felt overjoyed to be returning to the place that held his last memories of Sirius and to be with the Weasley's and Hermione, but now he felt a traitor. A cowardly boy that had to be stuffed away while another his age had to go to the front and fight for the world.

Lupin gazed at him intently. "This isn't you're fight, Harry," he said gently. "Your uncle and Buffy are trained to fight these things. They know what they're doing. You'd be a liability."

"Would you step back if it was me?" Harry asked pointedly.

"The wizarding world is different. We know how to deal with Voldemort," Lupin countered tightly. "This isn't our domain. Do you think it's any easier for me, knowing what he's about to...."

Harry wasn't a fool, even in his angered state, and he quickly caught on to Lupin's slip of the tongue. "What do you mean?"

The young wizard doubted he'd ever seen Lupin look more tired. "Nothing, Harry, it's nothing. Why don't you run off and find Ron and Hermione."

"Professor, if Uncle Rupert's in danger then it is my business. He's the only family I have left," Harry argued, jutting into the way of the werewolf's escape path. "What is he planning to do?"

"He's going to confront the Master to keep Buffy from facing the prophecy," Lupin answered quietly. "He can't let her die. No matter his speeches, he's still Ripper in there and despite his desperate attempts to show otherwise, he cares for Buffy deeply."

Harry hadn't expected that answer. All his anger sloughed off of him as though he'd been rinsed by an unseen shower. His uncle had sent him away not because he had feared Buffy would fail, but because he'd known he WOULD fail. "But, he'll die."

Lupin nodded. "Rupert was aware and he made me your guardian in the case of such an instance."

"I thought...," Harry started.

"By law, he can name me your guardian and the Ministry will have to adhere to it. We have our own government Harry, but it still has to conform to the muggle world," Lupin answered. "They won't be able to take you from me."

Of it's own accord, Harry's hand reached up to touch the crusted blood on his forehead. "What about Voldemort?" he asked, dazedly.

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," Lupin answered. He put an arm around Harry's shoulders and began to lead him through the hall to the kitchen. "There's little we can do."

For a moment Harry felt that Professor Lupin was right, that he had not ever faced a vampire or the sequence of events that would ultimately put the world hanging in the balance. It was all too tempting to accept his limitations and stay behind, but there was a tiny voice, growing louder and louder that suggested the opposite. He thought of his parents, Sirius, Cedric, and the number of people he had not been able to save. Could he actually let Uncle Rupert's life slip through his fingers as so many had before him?

Again a finger touched the blood, silently tracing the lightning bolt scar where the greater amount of the blood hand congealed. The power of blood had saved Harry's life the other night, could it not keep Uncle Rupert safe in the same manner? This wasn't just a man who'd been forced to take his nephew, not like Aunt Petunia had been. Uncle Rupert had wanted him, despite the mysterious estrangement between he and James. As much as he'd been feeling like an unwanted parcel, he should have known that Uncle Rupert was different from his mother's family.

"Professor, what if it was my dad?" Harry asked in a soft but intense tone. "What if it was my dad, that was there about ready to give his life? What would you do then? Would you expect me to stay behind?" His green eyes, the color of sparkling emeralds linked with the pale orbs of the werewolf's. "I can't loose anyone else."

Lupin groaned and Harry knew he'd won over the werewolf. "Rupert's going to kill me." Before Harry could run back to the fireplace, Lupin stopped him with a slim hand to his shoulder. "We have to go through the proper channel's. It may take us a while."

"Just as long as we make it before this evening."

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Buffy walked the grounds of Sunnydale High dressed in her beautiful prom dress and clutching a crossbow at her side. She hadn't been walking long when she spotted the Anointed. He had once been and was still a darling child. Round chubby cheeks, dark eyes, and a mop of straight hair. He wondered if the child whose body was now infested by a demon had felt much pain, if there had been a struggle. The fair skin showed no evidence of bruises or cuts, but those would have long healed with the strength of the demon.

The boy turned large eyes towards her. "Help me," he said in a quivering voice.

Buffy felt her stomach turn with the morbidness, but nodded. "It's okay. I know who you are."

Vampire boy held out a tiny hand and Buffy grasped it, feeling the cold seep through her skin. And the Anointed led her down to Hell.

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"She what?" Xander exclaimed.

Giles had reiterated the tale of the Codex prophecy to Buffy's friends, while Ms. Calendar pressed a cold pack to the bruised area of his skin where Buffy had planted her fist. It filled him with immense pride and aggravation that she had gone off to stand against the Master alone. There was also a sense of embarrassment that his Slayer had caught him so unawares. If he'd been better prepared, he might have seen her punch coming.

Willow shook her head mournfully. "I told you there was something going on with her."

"And she knew about this prophecy of yours?" Xander asked, ignoring Willow's statement. Giles nodded. "Aw, man, what do we do?"

"We stay calm, first thing," Giles said sagaciously.

He might as well have told Xander to do a toe dance, by the boy's reaction. "Calm?"

"I think he's right," Willow entered equitably.

Xander started to pace the length of the library. "I'm sorry, calm may work for Locutus of the Borg here," he gestured wildly at Giles. "But I'm freaked out, and I intend to stay that way."

"Xander!" the redheaded girl snapped.

"How could you let her go?" the boy accused, again oblivious to Willow's admonishments.

"As the soon-to-be-purple area of my jaw will attest, I did NOT let her go!" Xander was picking at his last nerve. Giles had meant himself to go to stop the Master, now that Buffy had defied him, yet again, he was lost on a plan.

Willow, however, did not loose sight of there goal. "Well, how can we help her?"

"Find out where she went," a new voice interceded before Giles could answer. The Watcher's brown/green eyes widened as his head snapped painfully to address the speaker. "Don't you think, Uncle Rupert?"

Remus stood behind Harry with not the tiniest bit of recalcitrance in his face. "And I think we have an apocalypse to advert," the werewolf added, pulling off his cloak.

"How come they're in the club?" Willow asked, sounding slightly perturbed. Perhaps due to Xander's repeated obliviousness to her person.

Giles barely heard her at all. He was looking at his very rebellious nephew and saw how much he and Buffy had in common. Harry was risking everything, not only his life but the possible lives of the wizarding world to come back here and Remus had let him.

Standing up gingerly, Giles glared at his nephew. "Do you have any inclination as to how much trouble you are in?"

Judging by the sudden uncertainty in Harry's eyes, Giles' menacing voice was doing it's appropriate task. "A lot," Harry ventured with a cheeky grin.

"We'll discuss it after we stop the end of the world," Giles said this as though it were a threat.

Xander broke into the tiny confrontation. "I'd hate to break up this family reunion but what about Buffy?"

"We don't even know where she's gone," Giles said, going into Watcher mode without a moments pause.

It was as though a light had been clicked on above Xander's head. "No. But I can find out."

Giles had a guess as to who he was thinking about and turned to the werewolf. "Remus, go with Xander. I'd like him to have a wand at his back if worse comes to worse."

"Right," Remus said, looking to Xander to lead the way.

Picking up the nearest book off the table, a index on Hellmouth's, Giles chucked it at his nephew. The young wizard caught it with the speed and accuracy of a Quidditch Seeker. "Harry, you're with me."

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Xander stood in front of the apartment's door and banged his fist into the hard wood. Mr. Lupin stood edgily next to him. Buffy was right, there was something different about Remus Lupin, though Xander couldn't put his finger on it. The guy looked as though he'd been through several boughts of cancer treatment but at the same time carried himself with the air that gave Xander a sense of a warrior.

The door creaked open and there stood the object of Xander's deep hatred. The Vampire with a Soul blinked at Xander. "Oh. Look who's here."

"Mind if we come in?" Xander asked, pushing through the door without waiting for an answered. Lupin followed him silently, no doubt wondering what they were doing here.

Angel closed the door. "Make yourself at home. Don't have much in the way of food though."

"She's gone," Xander informed without preamble. He didn't trust Angel, despite the blinders the rest of the gang seemed to don around him, and he wanted out of the vampire's domain as soon as possible.

Confused, Angel frowned. "Whaddya mean?"

It was Lupin that beat Xander to the punch. "Buffy's gone to fight the Maser."

Desolation quickly replaced the horror in Angel's eyes, but Xander refused to see it. How could a vampire feel after everything they had put Buffy, Xander, and Willow through? The young man couldn't just forget what had happened to Jesse.

"He'll kill her," Angel gasped.

"Rumor has it. Only we're not gonna let it happen." He couldn't believe his cocky tone. Adrenaline was pumping through him, making him better then he'd ever been before.

Angel's face shifted through a myriad of emotion, he settled on disbelief. "Well, what do you propose we do about it?"

Look, I know you can find this Master guy. He's underground, right? Take us to him," Xander waved and arm between he and Lupin.

"You're way outta your league, kid. The Master'll kill you before you can even breathe. If you're lucky," Angel explained and a tremor ran through the brave human. Who would know better the atrocities of the Master then one who had been created by his minions?

Still Xander couldn't back down. "How can I say this clearly?" From out of nowhere Xander produced a cross. Angel growled, backing away from the holy symbol. "I don't like you. At the end of the day, I pretty much think you're a vampire." Lowering the cross, he made to be diplomatic. "But Buffy's got this big old yen for you. She thinks you're a real person. And right now I need you to prove her right."

"You're in love with her," Angel deduced.

Xander gazed at him. "Aren't you?"

Lupin was now looking at Angel as though he'd seen a ghost. "You're a vampire? A good vampire?" The Englishman was rolling the idea around his tongue as though he were tasting a bitter sauce. "This doesn't make sense." Xander noted that the man's hand kept inching towards his vest pocket as though to pull something out.

"No all dark creature's hold darkness in them," Angel answered cryptically. "You should understand that better then most."

Looking between the vampire and Giles' friend, Xander said, "Huh?"

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"I have a question?" Harry interrupted the research-fest and Willow glanced up at him. "We know that the Hellmouth is to open tonight, but we don't know where. Seems an important issue?"

"Giles?" Willow asked, placing her finger into the book of spells she'd been skimming through to find a spell that might close the Hellmouth.

Giles placed his glasses back on as he focused past Willow's shoulder, thinking heatedly. "Good point." He rummaged through their pile of research information and pulled out a black leather bound book. "Harry, you take the Black Chronicles, Ms. Calendar, cross reference that with the local histories, we're looking for common denominators."

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"Welcome," the Master greeted her from the shadows, his voice a silky insinuation.

"Thanks for having me," she answered in the same gentile tone. The Master stepped out from the shadows and came into the dim moonlight. Buffy tried to steady her bounding heart. " Y'know, you really ought to talk to your contractor. Looks like you got some water damage."

A chuckle, that resembled a purr came emitted from the Master. "Oh, good. The feeble banter portion of the fight. Why don't we just cut to the... "

Suddenly, Buffy spun, bringing her crossbow to eye level and sending a shot into the direction of the hated bloodsucker. Like lightning, the Master's hand reached out and snatched the bolt, inches away from his heart. Buffy, quickly pulled back the bow to reload.

"Nice shot." He paused a human heartbeat. "You're not going to kill me with that thing."

Buffy gave him a cocky smile. "Don't be too sure."

"You still don't understand your part in all this, do you? You are not the hunter. You are the lamb," the Master opened his mouth wide to expose sharp teeth, died red by the constant of blood. "And I will devour you."

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If anyone had told him he'd be crawling around in the sewer's with a good vampire and an American teenager who twisted the English language, Remus would have thought they'd been zapped by the crucio curse one too many times. But that did not disrupt the reality around him. It only added the surreal atmosphere when the vampire and the teenage boy began to argue.

"This way," Angel whispered, gesturing down the corridor with a silent grace. He glanced back at Xander curiously. "What?"

"You were looking at my neck," Xander accused and Remus couldn't help but roll his eyes in dismay. Did these two want to telegraph their arrival to the Master.

Affronted, Angel couldn't believe his ears. "What?"

"You were checking out my neck," Xander said deliberately. "I saw that."

"No, I wasn't," Angel defended.

Xander kept himself as far away from the vampire as he could possibly getting, nearly hugging the disgusting sewer walls. "Just keep your distance pal."

"I wasn't looking at your neck," came the repeated defense.

"I told you to eat before we left," Xander admonished, following after the dark-haired vampire.

Remus was almost at his wits end. These two were worse then putting Harry and Draco Malfoy in the same room together. At least then you could keep a magical barrier around them, but here there was no end to the cruel banter. "Would you two desist? For claiming to love this girl, you're both acting rather immaturely."

"How much farther is it Dead Boy?" Xander asked after a moments silence.

Remus could only sigh. He suddenly wished for the simplicity of Hogwarts.

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Giles clutched the arm of his glasses between his teeth, pinching the bridge of his nose to stave off a headache. "Well, let's think about this, then. The vampires have been gathering, they know he's coming, they will be his army."

"Do you think they'll gather at the Hellmouth?" Ms. Calendar asked.

"Well, the last time the Master tried to rise was the Harvest," Willow remembered. "He sent a bunch of vampires to get him fresh blood."

Harry leaned closer towards her. "Where was that?"

"The Bronze," Giles realized.

"It is a weekend," Willow. "Lot's of dancing."

"We've got to warn them," Giles said, rocketing from his chair.

Ms. Calendar stopped him and pushed him back into his seat. "No, we'll go. You have to concentrate on demon killing. My car's in the lot."

"Stay close together, and for goodness' sake, be careful," Giles called after them as Willow and Ms. Calendar ran for the exit.

"We will," Willow yelled back.

Harry stood up. "Maybe I should go with them."

"NO!" Giles snapped and when he saw that stubborn glint in Harry's eye quickly continued. "I need you here, incase we find a spell. The other's won't be as much help." As soon as he said this, Giles wanted to kick himself in the pants. He had been working so hard to brush off Harry's previous attempts to discover how it was possible for a squib to do magic. He might as well have posted the subject in big flashing letters.

"Uncle Rupert, I wanted to ask you about that," Harry made another attempt to break into Giles' past.

"Later, Harry. We'll discuss it along with your overt disobedience," Giles hoped that reminding Harry that he was still in a fare amount of trouble would divert the boy's attention.

"I couldn't let you or Buffy die and not try to stop it," Harry told him quietly. "Too many people have died for me." Harry's green eyes locked on with Giles' and the Watcher fought to keep a hold of his anger. "Don't leave me alone to fight Voldemort. I can't do it alone."

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Willow walked alongside Ms. Calendar heading for the Computer Science Teacher's car. Night had fallen heavily and only slivers of silvery moonlight fell to illuminate their path. Willow had forgotten her previous fear, funneling it into action as they all worked against time. They came before Ms. Calendar's car and the beautiful teacher began rummaging for her keys inside a large tote bag.

"What if they get to the Bronze before we do?" she wondered out loud, glancing nervously behind them.

Ms. Calendar looked up from her bag and froze. "Don't need to worry about that."

Willow focused on her. "Why not?"

"Cause they aren't going to the Bronze," Ms. Calendar answered, nodding her head in the direction of the field before them.

Willow gasped and started backing away slowly, pulling Ms. Calendar with her. There had to be at least twenty vampires outside. Something hit her back and Willow looked up to see that even more vampires had come around behind them. They were surrounded.

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Buffy held her crossbow white knuckled, searching the shadows for the elusive Master. "You know, for someone who's all powerful, you sure do like to hide."

From beyond her vision, he answered, "I'm waiting for you. I want this moment to last."

She snorted. "Well, I don't."

Continuing her search, her ears strained for the slightest sound. She remembered the Angel could move into a room without her even noticing. If only she had worked with Giles more to hon her skills as he'd wished her too before the Harvest, perhaps she would stand a better chance.

A hush of sound whispered behind her and the Master was suddenly at her back. "I understand," he say.

She spins around read to shoot him but he grabs her by the neck. Swinging her arm, she knocked his hand away and made to run. But as though an invisible tether had been wrapped around her waste she felt herslef being tugged towards him. Buffy looked back at him and caught that his long talon's were reached out for her and he was using some power to hold her in place. Approaching her he twirled his hand slowly, as if conjuring the air. As his hand neared, he grabbed her leather coat and removed it from her shoulder's as a lover might.

Fear gripped Buffy and her breath tore raggedly from her lungs.

"You tried. It was noble of you. You heard the prophecy that I was about to break free and you came to stop me. But prophecies are tricky creatures. They don't tell you everything," he whispered, she could almost feel his fangs on her neck. "You're the one that sets me free! If you hadn't come, I couldn't go. Think about that!." His fangs pierced her skin and he drank her life's blood while Buffy was frozen by fear. "Oh, God! The power!"

He let her go and Buffy fell, crashing into the water. Her body would not obey her commands and water began to seep into her mouth and nose, clogging her airways.

"And by the way... I like your dress," she heard him whisper as the world shut out around her.

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The sewer tunnels began to quake and Remus could feel a thrum under his feets. :What was that?" he asked in a quite hiss, afraid to break the current silence.

Angel's face was contorted in pain. "It's too late. He's gone up." He and Xander exchanged worried looks before both broke out in a head long run towards the Master's lair. Being of supernatural speed, Angel got there first, Remus could only hear the sound of splashing water before he and Xander burst into the lair

Buffy was cradled in Angel's arm as she hugged her to him, rocking her back and forth as though to push life into her still frame. Xander stopped dead in his tracks, Remus nearly running into him

"She's dead!" Angel whispered but it might as well have been a howl. "She's dead," repeated the vampire and now it was a sharp painful keen.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11: Never the Same.

Xander shook his head in disbelief, walking towards the vampire still cradling the dead Slayer. "No. She's not dead," he said as though just uttering the words would make it so. He didn't care that Buffy would never see him in the same way that she saw Angel, just as long as she lived. She had been too bright, too full of life to be so still.

He saw his own silent disbelief and sorrow mirrored in Angel's dark eyes. "She's not breathing,"

Lupin came up behind Xander pushing him forward. "It looks as though he drowned her. Angel can you tell if he drained all of her blood?"

"Right," Xander said, suddenly filling with hope. "If she drowned, uh, there's a shot. CPR."

Angel sniffed deeply around Buffy's neck wound. "He only took what he needed," Angel muttered. "One of you will have to do it," he said, focusing on Xander and Lupin. "I have no breath."

"Couldn't you just magic her?" Xander asked Lupin as Angel arranged Buffy on the ground. Xander stripped off his jacket and handed it to the vampire, to which Angel bunched it and placed it under Buffy's neck.

Lupin shook his head. "I could, but there's a danger in that. Spells can be reversed or countered. It would be better if we'd had time to brew a potion. It will have to be you, Xander."

"Right, cause I pay so much attention during health," Xander joked, sinking his knees into the soft ground next to Buffy. "Here goes," he said as Angel and Lupin nodded him forward.

Leaning down, he sealed his mouth around Buffy's and forced a puff of air into her lungs, paused, then blew another. Lifting up, he placed the heel of his hand against her sternum and pumped 10 times. He tried to block out Angel's mouthing each of the numbers under his breath. Lupin was leaning over him, ready to take over if Xander grew tired.

"C'mon, c'mon," he uttered between breaths, chanting alongside his pumping hands. "Breathe."

"Breathe," Angel mimicked quietly.

"Breathe," Xander cried. "C'mon."

But Buffy wasn't responding and Xander's hand action slowly stuttered off. Angel swallowed and looked painfully in Xander's direction. It was the only time the high-school student could remember ever feeling a connection to the vampire. Opening his mouth to utter some sort of consolation, Xander was cut off by a sudden gasp.

All three male heads turned to the sound and were greeted by an open eyed Buffy. Exchanging a surprised and euphoric look with Angel, Xander and the vampire lifted her up as Buffy coughed water and sucked in a stuttering breath. She looked around as though confused, but gave no sign that she was going to move.

"Buffy," Xander breathed.

Her eyes fluttered towards him as though she just realized he was there. "Xander?"

"Welcome back," he greeted, a goofy smile crossing his boyish face.

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"Why are they coming here?" Ms. Calendar asked as they hunched together, desperately looking for an opening between the ranks of vampires to exploit.

Willow shook her head, fear starting to grasp her again. "NOT caring," she exclaimed.

One of the vampire's, his amber eyes looking between the teacher and student, smiled and crept forward. It was obvious that he wasn't going to wait for a dinner bell. Ms. Calendar hunched over Willow, momentarily shielding her with her body. It was over, she was finally going to die without ever kissing Xander or going to college. There had been so many things she had wanted to do with her life and it was going to end in a moment.

Both Willow and Ms. Calendar jerked when the sound of screeching tires headed their way. Headlights nearly blinded them, as a convertible drove through the ranks of vampires spreading them for the time being.

"Get in!" Willow blinked as she recognized who was behind the wheel but she didn't hesitate to hop into the car. "I was sitting where Kevin and I used to park, and all of the sudden these things are coming at me."

The three women screamed as one of the vampires leaped onto the car. It wouldn't be long before they all converged onto the convertible and tore through the leather cover. Ms. Calendar looked up at the roof frightened.

"What do we do now?" the teacher asked.

Willow turned to face Cordelia. "We've got to get to the library!"

"Library," Cordelia ground between clenched teeth, shifting the car. "Great."

The tires spun as she floored the gas peddle, spinning the car around to face the school, managing to throw off the vampire who had settled on the roof. It took a while for Willow to notice that Cordelia wasn't going to get to Giles by the conventional method.

"Of course, generally we walk there," Willow screeched as Cordelia rocketed the car through double doors and into the school hallway.

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Harry slammed the book shut and leaned back in the wooden chair. "There's nothing in these damn books. It's like trying to find a ball on a Merry-Go-Round."

"There is a spell to seal the Hellmouth," Uncle Rupert corrected, turning his opened book towards Harry. "But the ingredients needed are way beyond what I have and the power needed. I was hoping to find a simpler, temporary spell," Uncle Rupert shook his head. "If we only had more time."

Scanning the list of items the spell called for, Harry quickly noted that he had a lot of them already in his trunk for potions. Of course, his trunk was sitting in Uncle Rupert's flat, the Watcher saying that it would slow down Professor Lupin and Harry when they had made their escape.

"Do you think we have time to get home and back?" Harry asked. "I've got a number of things back at the flat."

"Still it takes a certain amount of power," Uncle Rupert informed, grabbing his tweed jacket and slinging it on.

Harry stood up. "Couldn't I do it?"

"No, this isn't the same as you're magic Harry," Uncle Rupert answered evasively. "This is something I must do."

"Is it...is it like what you did to get Voldemort out?" Harry asked softly, knowing he was pushing his luck. Uncle Rupert's anger at Harry's return might be put off by rising events, but Harry knew it was still at the surface, ready to bubble over along with his worry about Buffy. He brushed aside his bangs showing the mingled blood. "Because this won't work forever."

"The magics are the same," Uncle Rupert admitted. "And no it won't hold Voldemort at bay forever. Harry, I want to explain this to you in the best way possible but now is not that time."

"O..." Harry trailed off as a crashing sound reverberated through the library.

"What the?" Uncle Rupert said, running out into the hall, Harry quick on his heels.

Uncle and nephew stopped dead in their tracks as they saw the convertible hurling towards them in uncomparable speeds. "Does this sort of thing happen often?" Harry asked, glancing at his uncle hesitantly.

"No," Uncle Rupert shook his head, moments before throwing himself at Harry and knocking his nephew to the ground. Harry felt a breeze from the speed of the car waft past him and Uncle Rupert.

As he and his uncle staggered to their feet, Willow, Ms. Calendar and the girl Harry remembered to be Cordelia leapt out of the car. "What are you doing here? You were supposed to go to the Bronze."

"Change in plans," Ms Calendar snapped.

"What's happening?" Harry asked, turning to help Willow out of the car.

Willow's head snapped back towards the direction the convertible had come from. Harry saw several pairs of amber eyes lit in the dark of the hall and knew them to be vampires. If they got closer he would be able to see their disfigured faces. He reached into his back pocket where he kept his wand and pulled out the long strip of wood. Despite his previous problems with the ministry, he certainly didn't want to die here.

"Guess," Willow said as the five of them backed out of the hallway and into the library.

Uncle Rupert fell against the door, pushing his weight against it. Nevertheless, the door buckled and the Watcher was nearly thrown across the room as he tried to restrain the rushing vampires. Ms. Calendar threw herself next to Uncle Rupert and dug her heels in.

"We need something heavier," Ms. Calendar shouted.

A hand punched through the small circle window above Uncle Rupert's head and Willow grabbed the closed sign, banging it against the vampire's clawed arm. Uncle Rupert dunked under the red-head's assault. "Harry, Cordelia, take my place."

Harry didn't waste any time, he jumped into the spot that his uncle left open and wished he had a spell to make wood doors seem as lead. The beautiful brunette girl, sidled next to Harry, her tall frame adding minimal weight to the doors.

Uncle Rupert had grabbed a book shelf, and was now muscling it across the carpet over to the door. "When I give the word move out of the way," he instructed, balancing the bookcase precariously on its side. "Go."

Grabbing Cordelia's arm, Harry pulled her with him as he flung himself over the receiving counter. He heard the crash of the book case falling onto the door. "You alright?" Harry asked, helping Cordelia to her feet.

"I'm going to burn this outfit, but yeah," Cordelia said sarcastically.

"Harry?" Uncle Rupert called.

"We're over here," Harry informed the older worried man.

Uncle Rupert was toppling over a copier to keep the bookcase in place as Harry and Cordelia came out from behind the counter. "Why are they coming here?" Uncle Rupert asked. No one had an answer, least of all Harry, and no one saw the green leathery tentacle reach out from a crack in the foundation.

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It was like waking up from a long dream. Everything that had occurred with the Master had evaporated to nothing more then the clinging images of nightmares. As Angel and Xander lifted her from the ground she felt as though she didn't need their strength. Something had awoken inside of her as well as life. Hope.

"Easy, easy," Xander repeated as though they were levering something delicate. She wasn't delicate, no one could break her.

"The Master?" she asked, marveling at this new found efficacy.

"Gone up," Angel answered, gazing at her with unmasked concern. The didn't know, they couldn't understand. She saw Lupin behind Xander his pale eyes studying her intently, recognizing the rush of energy coursing through her.

Without looking at the others she stepped forward, starting on her path towards the Master. "Wait," Xander stopped her. "You're still too weak."

Buffy's gaze was wide and honest as she answered, "No, no, I feel strong. I feel different."

"Listen to her," Lupin said with conviction. "We still need to stop the Master."

"Let's go," Buffy announced.

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"They're coming in through the stacks," Uncle Rupert called as he, Harry and Cordelia continued their pressure against the door.

Ms. Calendar picked up Willow from the floor. They were all scampering to keep the vampires from coming into the library. Harry had yet to figure out why they were all so hell bent on coming into the library. Surely, they must know that the Slayer had gone off to face the Master. That even now, their plans to open the Hellmouth were being foiled by Buffy. Harry had to believe this, if he didn't then there was no hope in their actions here.

"Get the bookshelves," Ms. Calendar called to Willow.

The two women began to muscle the bookshelves, blocking the convergence of even more vampires. Harry felt fear grip his heart, unlike any save those first instances he'd faced Dementors. He'd never truly understood what it must take to fight a vampire. There weren't any spells that he knew of, that could repel a vampire. Defense Against the Dark Arts classes had always focused on identifying a vampire or werewolf, never how to deal with them face to face.

Harry admitted to his own neglect of these creatures. He had always been more focused on the type of magical entities that Voldemort and the Death Eaters might throw his way. They hadn't even covered vampires in the DA. Of course, at the time, they hadn't seemed to be that big of a threat.

"My office," Uncle Rupert blurted out suddenly and skipped off towards the tiny office where Harry could see bodies falling onto the skylight.

That left Harry and Cordelia alone to guard the library swinging double doors. A hand snaked out from a break in the barricade, reaching for Cordelia's throat as though to pull her neck towards waiting fangs. To Harry's surprise, and amusement, Cordelia snatched up the hand in her teeth and bit down hard.

"See how you like it," the brunette snapped.

Harry gave her a grin though his heart was still pounding with fear. Strange how you could feel such levity in a dangerous situation and yet that's how he felt. All those times with Ron and Hermione, he had never found anything to smile at until the bloody mess had been over and even then it had been difficult. He had seen Buffy, Xander, and Willow joke while Buffy had been slaying, and Buffy herself seemed to keep an air of amused confidence. Was it the case that you had to laugh or you'd cry?

A cry tore through Harry's musings and snapped his head towards the stacks, where Willow and Ms. Calendar had gone to block the exit. It was then that Harry caught a green tentacle, looking vaguely like the giant squid inside the mot around Hogwarts. As he followed the writhing mass of muscle from the crack in the foundation and out to where it had squeezed around a stockinged ankle.

It was Willow.

Ms. Calendar had her arms clasped around the young redhead, barely managing to keep her from being sucked into the foundation and down to what could only be the Hellmouth. "Giles! Giles!" the teacher screamed, sliding along the floor as Willow was pulled further towards the crack.

Uncle Rupert ran from his office and up to the fissure, only to come to a skidding halt as a three headed monster leapt through the library floor. It was dripping with a viscous yellow-green fluid and tentacles seemed to sprout from all three heads. Harry couldn't see any eyes and wondered if it were through the tentacles that it sensed it surroundings. So many years under the earth, Harry wouldn't be surprised if it were blind. It was tall, reaching nearly to the ceiling, and it had ground teeth and an ugly tongue. It was the most hideous sight Harry had ever looked upon.

"The Hellmouth," Uncle Rupert breathed.

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Every step that took her closer to the Master, the more Buffy was sure where the Hellmouth resided. She could feel it in her blood, the darkness calling out to her, to mock her. Soon that would change. She would be the light that made the darkness cower into shadow.

Behind her, Angel, Xander, and Lupin followed silently. Angel and Lupin seemed to be drawn to the same spot as she was, as though the mystical sang through not only the vampire but Giles' old friend. It was then that Buffy was sure that Remus Lupin was something extraordinary.

"So, how do you know where the Master's going?" Xander asked nervously at her side. He had probably not figured that she would seek the man who had killed her so quickly, had thought it best that she regain her strength. This was her strength; her purpose.

A small smile twitched at the corner of Buffy's lips. "I know."

She lead them right to the high school and her anticipation mounted, a vibration trembling through her tiny frame. Her dance shoes clunked against the pavement and two vampires guarding the entrance turned to face her. It all seemed incredibly weak and a cockiness filled Buffy.

"Oh look, a bad guy," she said sardonically

Balling her fist, she caught the vampire in the face and bowled it over with one swift hit. She pushed the other aside and heard the distinct popping sound as Angel dusted him. She killed several more in quick succession, her body moving at a speed that her mind could hardly contemplate. Dust littered the hall as she lead the three men to where she sensed the Master.

"Angel, better put on your game face," she ordered.

The visage of the vampire shifted onto what was usual an angelic face. "I'm ready.

"One way or another, this won't take long," Byuffy announced and walked out on the roof.

The Master stood over the skylight that looked down on the library. There was no mistaking his jubilation as he rose his hands into the air, crying with relief. "Yes. Come forth, my child. Come into my world."

"I don't think it's yours yet," Buffy informed.

It was almost worth dying to see the look of utter disbelief. "You're dead."

"I may be dead, but I'm still pretty," she jibbed, looking down at the beautiful dress her mother had given her. Right now she felt that her mother's protection had come with the dress. "Which is more then I can say for you."

She could see his frustration peaking, he was close to a tantrum. "You were destined to die. It was written."

Buffy shrugged, the essence of nonchalance. Deep down she felt a twinge though. She had died, and if it hadn't been for Xander, Angel and Lupin, she would have stayed that way. "What can I say, I flunked the written."

A guttural growl echoed into the empty night as the Master raised a grasping. Buffy remembered this from when he first hypnotized her. "Come here."

Without a word, she went forward.

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Willow and Jenny were both screaming. The Hellmouth had pulled Willow close enough that her toes were nearly in it's gaping mouth. Giles rushed to the table and the bag he'd been preparing to face the Master with. Grabbing an ax, he began to hack into the three-headed monster. The creature cried out in pain.

The Watcher took advantage of the obvious weakness and cocked the ax back to strike it again. But the creature had learned its lesson and deflected the blade as it came careening towards it. Giles and the axe were thrown across the room and landed with a back-jolting thump against the wooden table, cracking it and causing splinters to shoot off from the table. Several the size of a man's fist.

"Uncle Rupert," Giles heard Harry cry.

He tried his best to sit up from the wreckage. He didn't want Harry to come near that monster. "Stay back. I'm alright."

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She walked as though in a trance, feeling his pull on her and recognizing it for what it was. She came up until she was just under his chin and gazed up at him blankly. His hand whipped up and gripped her throat, still she did not move.

"Did you really think you could best me here when you couldn't below?" he asked, triumphantly, reading to drink her again.

"You have fruit punch mouth," she said dreamily.

The Master blinked at her. "What?"

It was his confusion that allowed her to sucker punch him in the mouth, knocking him to the ground. "Save the hypnosis crap for the tourists."

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Remus was pushed out of the way as Angel rushed the vampire. The two fought, but it was obvious who was the better. Angel moved with strength and grace and it was only a matter of time before the other vampire was flat on the ground, Angel moving quickly to jab the wood through the creatures heart.

"A little help here," Xander called as he struggled to keep gaping fangs from closing over his precious throat and sucking the blood dry.

Both Remus and Angel moved forward, grabbing either arm and pulling the vampire from Xander. With a powerful thrust of it's arm, the vampire knocked Remus away, sending the weakened werewolf into the American teenager. Remus leaped off of Xander and offered the boy a hand, his eyes tracing the boy's frame for any arm.

"Are you okay?" he asked tense. In the wizarding world to come in contact with a werewolf was considered an dirty offense.

Xander just shrugged it off, whether unknowing of his condition or uncaring Remus couldn't tell, and took the proffered hand. "Don't sweat it. I get knocked over all the time."

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Buffy leapt into a roundhouse kick, catching the Master squarely on the chin, marring an already decrepit visage. He quickly recovered and swiped a taloned hand at her. She dodged out of the way, but he grazed her skin just above her chest. Blood beaded in three thin lines, where his longest finger had caught her. She looked down at the wound taking it in.

With a sudden fury, she threw punches at the Master, contacting with his side, a shoulder, his stomach. He caught her fist on one of them and backhanded her, sending her flying across the roof, her skull cracking against a wall. Without preamble, Buffy charged him, flipping over he Master, coming between him and the skylight that lead down to the library and her friends.

Snapping a kick at his side, she connected with his ribs, but for the Master pain was only an irritating gnat. He pushed it off and grabbed her neck once again, his razor like nails slicing her throat.

"Where are your jibes now?" he taunted, edging her closer to the skylight. She looked back nervously and saw through the glass, a shattered table, a splinter of wood gleaming promisingly at her. "You laugh when my hell is on earth?"

"You're that amped about Hell?" she questioned and glanced back one last time, making sure she was positioned right. Snapping out her hand, she clawed his throat and raised him into the air. "Go there."

As though she were tossing an old doll, she threw the Master over her and sent him crashing through the skylight. She watched as he fell, saw Giles grab Ms. Calendar and Willow away from a three-headed monster who was being pulled down a fissure by an unseen force, as the Master's flesh was being stripped from his bones.

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Harry and Cordelia pushed away the makeshift barricades and forced the doors open to let Buffy, Angel, Xander, and Professor Lupin in. Without thought, Harry threw his arms around the blonde girl, squeezing her slight form. He felt her thin arms hug around his middle and he was jut thankful that the prophecy had been averted. She was alive and well, right in front of him.

Uncle Rupert cleared his throat and Harry's sense of propriety came back into focus and he released the Slayer. He smiled, half embarrassed. "You're okay?" he asked.

"Peachy," she said, though without her usual spunk.

"The vampires?" Uncle Rupert asked, his brown-green eyes searching Buffy.

Cordelia was looking out to the hallway. "Gone."

Angel looked around at the wreckage. "The Master?"

"Dead," Uncle Rupert answered. "The Hellmouth is closed." He was continued his scrutiny of the Slayer and Harry traced Buffy's line of sight to the recently dead Master. All that was left of him was bones.

"Buffy?" Harry asked. "Buffy?"

"Oh, sorry, it's just been a really weird day," she said with a ghost of her usual smile.

Xander nodded wisely. "Yeah, Buffy died and everything."

Harry's green eyes widened and snapped onto the tiny blonde unable to believe his ears, while Angel and Professor Lupin scowled at Xander.

"Wow! Harsh," Willow said inadequately.

"I should have known that wouldn't stop you," the Watcher said fondly to his Slayer.

There was something that passed between them then and Harry felt a wrench of jealousy run through him. He felt Buffy release part of her tension in that glance and saw his uncle's relief pour into the girl. He felt like a prat, but that glance should have been for him.

Ms. Calendar broke up the moment, much to Harry's relief. "Well, what do we do now?"

"I don't know about the rest of you, but I'd like to get out of this place. I don't like the library very much anymore," Uncle Rupert said with an ironic flare that Harry didn't quite comprehend.

"Hey. Dancing at the Bronze?" Xander suggested. "Could be fun."

"Yeah," Cordelia agreed and wrapped an arm around Harry's. He started at the American girl, not quite sure what to think of her.

Willow rolled her eyes but turned to the Slayer. "What do you think Buffy?"

"Sure," Buffy said decisively. "We saved the world. I say we party." She looked down at her white gown and shrugged. "I mean, I got all pretty."

Ms. Calendar stopped them. "What about him?" she said with a head nod towards the Master's bones.

Buffy turned her nose down at the remains of the creature that had killed her but had not stopped her. Harry wondered briefly if he'd be in her shoes one day soon and felt a chill of despair run through him. He didn't want to kill anyone, least of all look down at their bones, but he would have no choice.

"He's not going anywhere," she insisted. "Loser."

The rag tag group started heading out. Cordelia had become a permanent fixture at Harry's side. He watched in a sort of daze as Ms. Calendar took Uncle Rupert's arm much in the same fashion as the girl at Harry's right.

"I'm not dancing, though," his uncle whispered to his colleague.

Ms. Calendar shrugged. "We'll see."

Willow turned to Angel and bright smile on her shy face. "You can come with us Angel."

"I'm hungry," Buffy said behind him, sounding as though if they didn't get to the Bronze soon, she'd it the closest one of them.

Xander ignored this statement. "So what's with the car?"

"Oh, that was me, saving the day," Cordelia chirped proudly.

"Get something to drink," Willow continued to Angel.

"Is anybody else hungry?" Buffy repeated.

Willow suddenly realized her mistake. "Well, no, don't do that. Just hang," she corrected sheepishly.

Angel smiled at her before he glancing back at Buffy. The two stared at each other and in moments Angel was at her side.

"I'm really, really hungry," Buffy said up to him.

He smiled at her enthusiasm. "By the way, I like your dress."

"Yeah, yeah, it's a big hit with everyone," Buffy replied though Harry could tell that Buffy was pleased by his words. It was probably the strangest relationship in history, but he could appreciate the irony.

As they walked out of the now quiet Hellmouth, Harry knew one thing. His life had completely changed in this one night and things would never be the same for him.


	12. Chapter 12

Note: It seems that there is a lot of people angry with the fact that Harry nor Lupin didn't use any magic. For one thing, this isn't their world. It's like dropping Harry into his first year and expecting him to face Voldemort after only a few days in that world. Harry's quick with defensive spells, but he isn't so ready to use useful everyday spells like Hermione might. Harry is also out of school and can't lawfully use magic. This has been defended before because of the circumstances, but when you have a huge amount of nonmagical people handling their own it seems a little conspicuous. Later, Harry and Remus will both be using magic against the forces of darkness but for now, they're getting used to the change in their predicaments.

Chapter 12: Choices and Nightmares

Harry couldn't remember sleeping more deeply in his entire life. He had thought that the horrors of the previous evening would have left him to full of adrenaline to quiet his mind long enough for sleep to catch him. But after returning from the Bronze and tending to his superficial wounds, Harry had dropped off as soon as his head had hit the pillow. Uncle Rupert apparently had not.

When Harry woke, he found himself surrounded by a handful of cardboard boxes. Uncle Rupert was stacking books and the other trinkets that had graced the bookshelves of the living room nicely into the boxes. Harry didn't lift his head from the pillow, but watched his uncle. He'd seen how everyone had gone up against the vampires, but only Uncle Rupert had faced what had come out of the Hellmouth.

There was a round purple bruise just below his left eye where, Harry had been told, Buffy had struck him unconscious. From the deliberate movement of his back, Harry saw that when the Hellmouth monster had thrown Uncle Rupert into the table, it had not left the Watcher unscathed. What did surprise Harry was that for the first time Rupert Giles wasn't dressed in his customary suit of tweed, instead he had donned a pair of jeans and a t-shirt.

His uncle pulled out his desk drawer and started rummaging through some of the contents, humming softly to himself. Above Harry, Professor Lupin snored in a peculiar cadence to Uncle Rupert's vibrations. The sun must have been up for some time for Harry was almost uncomfortably warm under his thin blanket and it wall he could do to keep from wriggling out as he watched his uncle press his living room into the small cardboard boxes.

Reaching back further into his desk drawer, Uncle Rupert took out a folder of papers and Harry caught a glimpse of what looked to be a wizarding picture. It was difficult to keep his curiosity in check, but he had already learned that Uncle Rupert wasn't exactly a sharing person. He told Harry only what he needed to know about himself, only when Harry needed to know it. This unguarded moment was probably the best way for Harry to get to know his father's brother.

Slowly, Uncle Rupert placed the folder onto the desk top and turned so he was under the desk. With gentle hands, he peeled back the cover of the folder and a sad smile graced his rugged features. His fingers caressed something just out of Harry's sight and he tried to crane his head upward without being blindingly obvious.

"Hello," the Watcher said and pulled a sheet of paper from the folder. He leaned back in the chair, studying the paper with avid interest. It was as though he had found something long lost and was unsure if how to receive it.

A soft chuckle emitted from the older man and Harry decided he could no longer contain his curiosity. Feigning a yawn, Harry stretched his arms to the ceiling and pulled the cramped muscles that had been begging him for a stretch since he'd woken. He sat up, rubbing his eyes that were still gummy from sleep and fumbled for his glasses.

"Good morning, Harry," Uncle Rupert greeted him in a whisper, setting down the piece of paper. "Sleep well?"

Harry nodded, climbing out of his covers and to his feet. "Did you sleep at all?" he asked, wondering how it was possible that Uncle Rupert never had dark circles around his eyes. It often appeared that the man never slept.

"Yes, of course," Uncle Rupert replied curiously.

"What's going on?" Harry asked, looking around at the chaotic flat.

Uncle Rupert shrugged. "Well, considering that you're now to live with me and that I've seemed to have taken in a permanent house guest, I thought the sooner we found a bigger flat the better. Besides, I don't think you quite fancy sleeping on the floor for the rest of the summer."

Harry grinned and came closer to the desk, trying to catch a surreptitious glances at whatever Uncle Rupert had been looking at. What he saw caused him to gasp. It was a picture of the Marauders, plus one. Harry's father appearing as though her were fifteen or sixteen. In the middle was an older boy, wearing a white ragged t-shirt and a pair of torn jeans. Rolled into the cuff of the shirt was a package of cigarettes. The older boy's arms were draped over James and Remus, Sirius on the other side of James, with Peter Pettigrew a step away, eyeing the older boy warily though trying his best to smile for the camera.

"Is that you?" Harry asked, pointing to the picture and indicating the older boy.

"Bugger off," the older boy in the picture cried to Harry and the wizard's green eyes widened.

Uncle Rupert blushed and stuttered a reply, "Yes, well, things were different then."

The similarities between the two half-brothers were easily identified in their youth. Though Uncle Rupert wasn't wearing glasses, Harry saw how he squinted towards the camera and guessed that the younger Rupert had needed them desperately.

"Your father had just turned fifteen and it was his birthday celebration," came his uncle's narrated. "We first headed to London. James thought it was the strangest place but he found it incredibly interesting. Sirius of course was trying to fake arrogance while figuring how to chat up the nearest girl. Remus felt quite at home, you know his mother is Muggle?" Harry indicated that he did. "I never did like Peter, but he was James' friend and it was his birthday."

Harry watched as his father's eyes looked up at the young Rupert with admiration. "You look so happy," he muttered. "Why didn't you know my father had died? What kept you two apart?"

"That's a long story, Harry. One I had hoped to hold off a little longer, but from the way Remus tells it, once your curiosity is piqued you are tenacious. And I'd rather you hear it from me," Uncle Rupert explained. "As you can see from this moment of moving history, I wasn't exactly gentile. I was in my own private rebellion against my destiny and I didn't care who knew it. When I was twenty-one, I met a man named Ethan Rayne. He practiced what is known as Wiccan. It's the ability to perform magic without having the magic born within you."

"How is that possible?" Harry asked, carefully sitting on the couch arm across from the desk.

"Do you remember the spell I performed when Voldemort entered your mind?" Uncle Rupert asked.

Harry raked his memory. Pain had drowned out a lot of what had been happening around him. Voldemort had become the root of all his pain lately, even though Harry greatly blamed himself for Sirius' death. "It was an incantation of sorts?" Harry questioned, raising his shoulders dubiously.

"It was. I called upon a Goddess and used her power to force Voldemort from you. That's why we needed to keep our blood combined. It's the seal that binds you to me and me to Filla. The spell I performed is a Wiccan spell," Uncle Rupert explained.

"And you learned this type of magic through this Ethan fellow?" Harry asked.

"Not all of it. This type of magic is taught to a Watcher to help him or her protect and guide the Slayer. They call it the Black Arts, but it's not necessarily black. It's rather unsavory name appeared out of the Early Ages, when wizards such as yourself and Remus, became aware of a magic different from their own, they automatically assumed that it had to be black because their's certainly wasn't."

"Which isn't to say that there isn't a dark side to the Black Arts and Ethan was particularly adept in this area," Uncle Rupert informed him gravely. "I was angry, Harry. Angry that I would never get the opportunity to become as I wanted to become and I intended to show the world how much it couldn't control me. I took up with Ethan and his lot."

Harry didn't want to believe his ears. This couldn't be happening. His father had died because of such Dark Arts, how could his uncle be a part of that? Frustrated and clinging to the hope that there was something that he didn't quite comprehend, he shook his head. "You couldn't have. This doesn't make sense."

Uncle Rupert swallowed and ran a hand over his face. "That type of magic is an incredible rush, it gets into your blood and the more you use it, the more you want it. I hardly realized that I was addicted and blatantly denied it when my parents brought it to my attention. I eventually left home, much to my relief now. I also stopped training as a Watcher. At the time I was on self-destruct and I'm glad I didn't take my family with me on that path. For a long time, I stayed with Ethan and the others, fueling my addiction until one of my friends died in result to the magicks we harbored."

A great sigh heaved out of Uncle Rupert. "It was the wake up call I needed. Having hit bottom as they call it, I returned to my training. To say that I had a difficult time would be an understatement. I was fighting an addiction to black magic and returning to the Council that I hated so greatly with my tail between my legs. But I didn't return home."

"Why not?" Harry asked. He had long accepted that people weren't perfect, after seeing so much betrayal, he could hardly think otherwise. But he had the feeling that Uncle Rupert wasn't telling him everything.

"Pride mostly," answered Uncle Rupert with a self-deprecating tone. "I wanted to return to my mother and father with proof that I had changed. I had hoped to be finished working with the Council and to have my potential slayer before returning home. Without knowing that your parents had been murdered I sent them letters, testing the waters before I'd come to Sunnydale. Each was returned. It was then that I determined that they had moved on and that so should I."

"I was young and foolish, with the pressure of a destiny that I felt I couldn't bare. But I loved my family, Harry, and I still miss them." Uncle Rupert's hand rose up to cup Harry's cheek. "I think, perhaps, you're my second chance to make things right. That is if you can forgive this old fool."

It seemed to Harry that the boy in the picture and the man that sat before him were two different entities. Young Rupert had just wanted to escape his destiny in anyway he thought possible and that was something Harry wished he didn't quite so well understand. In his uncle's eyes he saw a reflection of past pain and future hope with the desire to watch and care for Harry. How could he refuse someone who wanted to love him?

Harry nodded his forgiveness, looking at the hand that still rested on the side of his face. "It's not my place to forgive," Harry mumbled, taking a step back away from his uncle and taking in the mess that had been the result of packing. "Do you need a hand?"

"That would be appreciated," Uncle Rupert said, slapping his hands to his knees and pushing himself to his feet. "Then perhaps we can have lunch at one of those detestable fast food franchises that claim to be restaurants."

"Lunch?" Harry asked, now searching the flat for a clock.

"It's 12:00 in the afternoon," Uncle Rupert informed him teasingly. "You and Remus aren't used to this sort of life. After a while you learn to subsist off of very little sleep."

"How is everyone?" Harry asked. It had been a fight that had amounted to very little, in trying to get Buffy to see a doctor. Uncle Rupert had suggested that they even take her to the hospital, but she glared at him as though he had suddenly become a vampire. The group had finally gotten the revived Buffy to agree to rest today, though Harry had sensed a certain rebellion behind her quick acquiescence.

"Ah, I called Mrs. Summers this morning before Buffy had woken and expressed my concerns of several flu bug symptoms that Buffy had been displaying," the Watcher answered, gazing over a few books before pulling them off the shelf. Apparently, the older man hadn't been fooled by Buffy's performance either. "Willow and Xander called around 10:00, we're going to bury the Master's bones tonight. There is a certain ritual that must be performed." Uncle Rupert smiled like a cat ready to pounce. "And I don't suspect to hear from Cordelia."

Harry rolled his eyes as he snatched up one of the cardboard boxes. "What about Ms. Calendar?" he shot back vengefully. "Did she ring?"

"Heavens no. I can't stand the aggravating woman," Uncle Rupert replied heatedly, his cheeks warming.

Smiling, Harry started to grab several stone statues from one of the book shelf. He'd seen several of them sitting in Professor Trelawny's classroom and fleetingly wondered if Uncle Rupert believed in some of that claptrap that Trelawny spouted. Prophecies were real, he knew that now, with one being given to himself and having seen one come to fruition, but he had a hard time believing that in the stars or the ground bits of tea leaves could foretell what the future would bring.

"That's not how it looked when you two were dancing last night," Harry teased.

If possible, Uncle Rupert's blush only seemed to deepen further. "There was no need to be rude; she asked, so I agreed. You and Cordelia seemed to dance most of the night."

"American girls ," Harry explained. He was certainly attracted to Cordelia, anyone with eyes couldn't help be, but he couldn't possibly see them having anything in common. In a way she reminded him of a female version of Malfoy, especially when she talked down to Willow, Xander, and Buffy. "Girls in general are complicated," Harry amended, thinking of Cho Chang. "I think it's best just to stay clear of them completely."

Nodding as though he were a sage, Uncle Rupert said, "Always sound advice."

"Would you two stop gabbing," Professor Lupin growled as he turned in the sofa bed, wrapping the blankets tightly around him. "There are people trying to sleep."

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Giles had found several two or three bedroom apartments available in the morning paper and had arranged meetings with a relator to inspect them later that evening. It was nice to spend time with Harry and not worry about the impending apocalypse. He still wasn't sure how he was going to keep Harry's mind blockaded from Voldemort and refused Remus' suggestion of asking Snape to once again take up teaching Harry Occlumency. He'd rather have to call upon Filla's graces a thousand times a night then to leave Harry with that utter git.

He certainly wasn't going to play by these wizard games and he worried that Harry would eventually get to wizard-sappy as he'd once called it. Pointing your wand at things only got you so far in life and he suspected that the opposite mentality had gotten James and Lily killed. But how long could the binding spell keep Harry safe and the boy certainly would have enjoyed taking a shower this morning.

As it so happened they found their new apartment almost right away. It wasn't overly large but compared to Giles current flat it was palatial. It had three bedrooms, one each for Harry and himself, with a spare bedroom for the guests Giles was sure would come. Off from the living room there was a sitting room large enough to house Giles' books and his desk. The kitchen was large enough for both of them since Harry also enjoyed cooking and a little terrace stood outside the kitchen and through a pair of french doors.

Giles' filled out the financial papers and was thankful that the Council paid for his living arrangements. If only that were true for his travel, the ride between apartments had left Harry rather white faced and white knuckled, the boy vowing that he was never going to get into that car again. The Watcher had rebutted with the fact that broom travel was hardly any safer and much more conspicuous outside of a wizarding village.

"We'll have to see about getting Ron and Hermione to the new place," Giles was saying as the drove home that evening. "Maybe spend a few days."

"That would be great," Harry said cheerfully, looking happier then Giles' had ever seen him. Out of the corner of his eye he watched his nephew while trying to pay attention to the road and Harry caught his scrutiny. "What?"

"You seem different," Giles answered simply. "What brought about this change in attitude?"

"Buffy dying," Harry answered succinctly.

"Oh," Giles said with a wince. He was deeply worried that Buffy was not taking her near death more seriously. From what little he'd been able to pry out of her from the previous night it had been quite a harrowing experience and he was sure there had to be some trauma buried deep down. Buffy was only brushing it off in her usual blasé fashion.

"It's just....well, it's just that she had this terrible prophecy of death and she beat it," Harry tried to explain. "After hearing you tell Angel that they were practically sealed in stone, I thought that there was no hope."

"Prophecies are sketchy things," Giles agreed. "They only give you the synopsis of what's going to happen. Buffy did......die, but then she was revived. Once the prophecy is met there is nothing to say what will happen afterwards."

Now it was Harry's turn to study Giles. "Is that why you left training to be Watcher? Because you detested the thought of sending someone to die?"

"That was part of it," Giles replied tightly. "You see Harry, I never knew my biological father, he'd been killed by a Zygoth demon and so it was left to Edward, your grandfather to raise me as his own. When I was ten years old, he sat me down and explained my birthright. Well, to a ten-year-old it seemed frightfully fascinating and heroic. It was only later when I began my studies and started to work with the Council that I realized how horrid it truly was. I met girls, not that much younger then myself, who knew that their life span was on par with certain species of bugs. Weakly, I wanted nothing to do with it."

"And when your friend died," Harry deduced.

"There's a point in this sort of life, Harry, when you must realize that people are going to die, whether you are apart of it or not," Giles elucidated. "I decided that I'd rather be an influence that might help the Slayer survive then to allow her with another Watcher who did not see things the same way I do."

"You care a lot for Buffy, don't you?" Harry asked, pretending to be focused on a pair of teenage girls, seemingly on their way to the beach.

Giles shrugged, as he turned his clunking car into the drive. "She's an extraordinary girl."

Not like anything I expected, though I had read her previous Watcher's diary. Merrick had neglected to mention a lot about the girl. Of course, Buffy's previous Watcher had been known to be a rather hard man. Merrick had trained several Slayer's before Buffy was called and had long since been hardened by his own experiences and had been one of the few who had insisted in Buffy being trained once they had learned who the new Slayer had become.

"She's certainly not ordinary," Harry agreed emphatically.

"I also care a lot about you," Giles assured his nephew.

Harry turned from Giles imploring glance. "You don't know me."

"I'd like that opportunity," Giles persisted. He knew how difficult it was to be outside of what you knew, to fear that the person who was your guardian may only find you as extra baggage. He'd tricked himself into believing this when he'd been about Harry's age. If only he'd known then how much Edward Potter had given him.

"Maybe you won't like what you discover," Harry muttered.

"Harry," Giles said, wondering where this conversation was going. The boy's previous brightness a dimmed faster then an exploding sun. "Is this about Voldemort?"

"No, this is about me. Who I am. When Sirius died, I used an Unforgivable Curse on the Death Eater who killed him. I hated her more then anything in my life and I wanted to kill her," Harry spoke this as though he were narrating from a distance, his voice was low. "I'm no better then Voldemort."

"Did you kill her?" Giles asked, surprised by this new development.

"No, I used _Crucio_ a few times but it stopped working after a while," Harry answered. "She said that my hatred wasn't good enough."

Giles put the car and neutral and lifted the parking brake into place before shifting in his seat and facing his nephew. "Do you think she was right?"

Harry shrugged, avoiding Giles gaze. "Does it matter? I still wanted to do it."

"Did you never wonder how magic works inside of you?" Giles asked, knowing already that Harry did not.

"Not really," Harry answered, folding his arms and leaning back against the decrepit seat.

Giles sighed. "It's attuned to you. Everything that you create with magic is a reflection of you. There is a difference from wishing someone harm and wanting it enough to cause it, especially repeatedly. Voldemort, I'm sure, can utter an Unforgivable any number of times and never bat an eye. Guilt is part of being human, Harry, but you should not dwell on it. Learn from it so that such an occurrence need not happen again."

"So what are you saying? I'm not capable of doing what Voldemort has done?" Harry asked and Giles recognized his nephew's fear.

"Everyone has a little darkness inside of them, Harry. It's whether they allow that darkness to rule them that causes humans to become monsters. Right now, I see a young man who has a choice before him. You have a taste of Voldemort's power, you two were bound when he attempted to kill you, there is no reason, except one, that you shouldn't become as he did."

Harry leaned forward and inched closer to Giles. "What is it?"

"You. It comes down to you, Harry. A weaker person, may decide to step to Voldemort's side, even overpower him, in his attempt to control the future. Do you want that? Or do you choose another path, a more difficult path?" Giles explained. "Right now, you've always chosen with the goodness in your heart. That's what stopped you from destroying Sirius' killer. You allow that goodness to continue and you have nothing to fear."

Harry finally locked glances with him and Giles was relieved to see the type of determination in his eyes that he'd seen in Buffy's before she'd face the Master. He was scared, but he would do what was necessary. "I don't ever want to become like him."

"Good," Giles said, with a lightened smile. "Let's get inside. I've got a lot of work to do before we bury the Master's bones."

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Buffy lay in her bed, reading the newest teen magazine. Her mother had absolutely refused to let her do anything strenuous and had been forcing chicken soup down her all day. At first the Slayer had protested but after her pleas to visit Xander and Willow had fallen upon deaf ears, she'd given up. If she were to be honest with herself she was actually thankful for the respite and exploited her mother's hovering attitude to its fullest extent.

If only her mind could find the same sort of relief that her body was experiencing. Since waking up she had jumped at the slightest sound, her eyes examining every corner. One she had ventured to take a nap at let herself wind down, behind darkened eyelids all she could see was the Master's bat face leering at her. Needless to say, she hadn't gotten the sleep.

She was reading the latest on Brad Pitt when a noise at her window caused her to jump from her bed, pulling the short knife that she kept under her pillow in one fluid motion. A hand grabbed her wrist as it came down and she was comforted by the cold fleshy touch.

"Angel," she breathed. "God, did you ever hear of coming through the front door?"

A sly smile graced his beautiful features. "I thought it be a little odd for your history tutor to show up asking to see you during the summer."

"Good point," Buffy said, running a hand through her hair to make sure it hadn't gotten too ratty in her long day of lounging. "So what brings you by? I thought you working through Giles now."

"I just wanted to make sure that you were okay," Angel muttered. "You know, after the other night."

Buffy forced a smile. "We won, the bad guy died, remember. Life is a bunch of roses."

"Roses can have thorns," Angel countered, leaning against the window pane. Did he have to look so protective and...gorgeous?

"I'm thornless," Buffy said with a happy shrug. "It's good to see you Angel, but I'm really tired and you really shouldn't be here." But she wanted him to stay, wanted him to chase away the memory of that triumphant, ugly face.

Angel looked down at his hands. "No, I guess I shouldn't." He hunched down as though to go back through the window, but then paused. "I've missed you, missed seeing you."

Buffy turned around, unable to look at his face and continue with the stoic facade she'd been wearing like a costume mask. She had missed him too. It had felt good, knowing that there was someone watching her back, someone other then Giles to guide her to the bad guys. And what would it cost her to admit that? They had both agreed that they couldn't see each other, but did that mean they couldn't tell each other anything? Of course, that's exactly what it meant, but Buffy had never been one to follow the rules.

Rolling around she said, "I missed you too." But there was no one there to hear it any longer.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13: Issues, Bonding, and Dementors oh my.

"There's something wrong with her," Willow said as she sat at Giles' new oak table. She played with the straw of her moca as she gazed up at Giles fixing himself a cup of tea.

Xander nodded his head enthusiastically. "Definitely. Our cheery Buffster has gone down the lane of gloom and into the lake of isolation. We've sent out a search party but she ain't responding."

Giles rolled his eyes at Xander's drama. It had been two weeks since the incident with the Master and the Sunnydale students were to be back in school in another week and Harry would return to Hogwart's the week after that. It would seem strange not to have his nephew in their new flat. Since their talk the day after the Master's ascension, his relationship with Harry had been steadily growing and they had fallen into a type of routine. Harry had even expressed his desire to return during the Christmas and Easter holidays, something Remus had told him, Harry had never done with the Dursley's.

The werewolf had taken Harry back to England to obtain the school supplies he would need for next year and to pick up Ron and Hermione who would be spending the weekend with Harry and Giles. Remus would be searching for his own apartment here in California as the permanent connection between the Order and Giles. He'd be flitting back to and from England, introducing Harry's bodyguards to Giles and making sure that the Watcher gave his approval. The Watcher had already met with one, a young witch by the name of Tonks, who Harry had immediately given Giles the sign of approval.

Meanwhile, Buffy had been over nearly every day to train. Her dedication had taken on a morbid persistence and Giles always came away from the sessions feeling disconcerted and off kilter. He had easily identified Buffy's new sense of duty. The Slayer's attempts to forestall facing what had happened to her the night she had died were failing and she was searching for something to cloud her mind of the truth just that much longer. Giles was waiting for the moment where she'd let the truth hit her. He just hoped he was there when it happened.

Sitting himself at the table, he arranged his tea in front of him. "Buffy has been through a traumatic event, she's likely to experience a sort of depression because of it," he explained. "Given time I'm sure she will return to her previous self."

"Isn't there any way to help her?" Willow asked.

"Not unless she wants to be helped, Willow," Giles answered gently. "Trust me. At the moment she's hurting, but it won't last forever." He tried a soft smile. "It's what you American's refer to as 'issues'." He took a sip from his tea, eternally grateful that Remus had smuggled some authentic English blend into him. "If it will make you feel better, I'll have a talk with her. But I'm afraid that we are bound by Buffy's clock. "

"Then we should probably let you and Harry continue with the manly bonding," Willow said before slurping up the rest of a her moca.

Giles cleared his throat. "Actually, I have a bit of a favor to ask you two. Harry's bringing Ron and Hermione over with him tonight and I was wondering if you could show them the town, what little there is of it, while Buffy and I train."

"All quiet on the Hellmouth?" Xander asked.

"Quite. Buffy and I have made several patrols and have encountered little save snogging couples," Giles answered wryly. "I'm scarred for life."

Xander gaped at him blankly. "You face the spawn of hell, but a macking session weirds you out?"

Giles gave him one of his don't-be-ridiculous-Xander looks. "In any case, if you could do this for me, it would leave an opportunity for Buffy and I to talk one on one. I'm afraid Harry's been dominating the bulk of my time. I've been searching for a spell that might permanently keep Voldemort out of his mind."

"Why don't we just fireplace over to England and sick Buffy on this creep?" Xander asked, indicating Giles' new and recently connected fireplace. "It sounds right up Buffy's ally."

"It's not the Slayer's position to take," Giles informed stiffly, partly wishing that it was, the other part wanting to cut out his traitorous heart. If only he'd been born with the magic needed, he could save both his charges from their horrid destinies. "Buffy is only meant to destroy those that have no conscious, no possible way of experiencing good from evil. Vampires feed without thought, it is nature to them that cannot be changed without the presence of the soul. Buffy just releases the body from the demons control. Voldemort is a different matter. On the whole, he is still a human being with soul."

"But what about Amy's mom?" Willow asked. "She was a Witch and Buffy fought against her."

Giles nodded. "Of course, she is meant to bring any human to justice, but I'm afraid that Voldemort won't go that simply. It's up to Harry to stop him."

"You know what I've decided?" Xander asked philosophically.

"Hmm?"

"Life sucks," he uttered downcast.

Giles smiled over his cup of tea. "Very astute."

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'You can never escape me,' the Master's voice whispered inside Buffy's head, soft and insinuating as a whisper of smoke. 'You killed me and I'm still with you.'

Buffy shivered, trying to block out the morbid thoughts that had been trailing after her since she had destroyed the Master. She wondered if his demon essence could be clinging to her, a sign that he would bring hell in any form he could find. She almost imagined he could fell his cold dead fingers pressing around her throat....

She grabbed the hand resting on her shoulder and stuck her hip out, using it as a balance to throw her opponent. Giles landed on the floor with a back-crunching thud, the air rushing out of him in one huge blast. His glasses sat off kilter on his rugged face as he gazed up at her with a mixture of concern and pain. He always wore protective pads but Buffy's strength was only dimmed by the layers of cotton.

Adjusting, his glasses, he staggered to his feet. "I think that's enough training for now," Giles gasped in between breaths.

"I'm still good," Buffy countered, rolling her arms like a pinwheel. "Maybe I should go for patrol."

"Buffy, I think that's hardly necessary. Everything has been quiet..."

"We don't know when that will stop, Giles. People are going to die if I don't watch out for the mean and nasty uglies," she said. "What if tonight the bunch of them just go, 'hey, I feel like a blood kegger'?"

Giles snatched his glasses from his face and began to polish them on his shirt tail. "As you're Watcher, I'm ordering you to return to your house."

She snorted, she actually laughed, and the moment froze in her heart. "You're going to stop me from patrolling? You who spouts duty and honor like it should have been on Sesame Street."

"Buffy, we need to talk," Giles said, firmly, ignoring her accusations.

Pushing her hands into her blonde hair, she shook her head. "No, you need to stop being the hypocritical Watcher. This is my life."

"Just listen to me for a moment," Giles tried to calm her with a soothing tone. But he didn't know, couldn't guess the spirit that constantly stalked her.

'He can't save you,' the Master's words returned in her mind. 'He is weak and you are strong and yet still I remain. There is no one who can save you.'

"Giles, I really don't want to do the little heart to heart, unless it involves a stake, okay? Hey, here's an idea, you can go spend time with Harry," Buffy offered heatedly. She didn't want to talk about this, didn't want Giles hovering over her like a father. Because that was exactly what he wasn't. A father protected their child, didn't send them off to die.

'But he tried to stop you. He was going to go in your place,' a rebellious part of Buffy's mind reminded her.

"This isn't about, Harry," the Watcher argued.

"Oh, come on, Giles. Harry's all you care about anymore," Buffy said, liking that she had this bit of leverage over him now. Now that he was on the defensive she could avoid the truth, the fear that gripped her.

Except now, Giles looked both offended and hurt. "I have never shirked my duty towards you, Buffy."

"Well, maybe you should shirk," Buffy answered.

Giles sank down onto the couch they had pushed out of the way to give them room for training. "Buffy, I know facing the Master was difficult for you."

"You know? You know? How could you possibly know? Did he kill you while I wasn't watching?" Buffy snapped these questions off with a staccato high-pitched tone. She saw Giles' wince of pain. He was supposed to watch after her.

"You're right. I don't understand, you need to explain it to me," Giles insisted. "Buffy, you can't keep this locked inside or it will eat at you. Believe it or not, I want to help."

'Help,' she wanted to scream at him. She had already turned Angel aside, Hank Summers was in L.A. pretending she didn't exist, perhaps Giles could really help her. But this cold, this impenetrable cold seemed to be forever wrapped around her. It whispered to her of death; not only of her own, but of all those she had failed to save. In her minds eye, she'd repeatedly seen Merrick place the business end of his pistol into his mouth and pull the trigger, forever sealing his lips against revealing the identity of the Slayer to Lothos.

"Giles, I can't," she muttered softly, tears at the edge of her voice. "Cause if I do, then it was real, it was all real."

Buffy decided that then would be the best time to make her retreat, when Giles was fighting with what to say next. She dashed out of his new apartment, running at the full speed of a Slayer. The cold night air wafted past her face, brushing her hair back in waving locks.

'You cannot run from death,' the Master's voice echoed in her mind.

YYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY

Ron and Hermione sat next to Harry, eyes wide as they took in the loud, flashing atmosphere of the Bronze. They had dropped off their school supplies at Uncle Rupert's, Hermione's bags easily outnumbering both Harry's and Ron's put together. Buffy had arrived with that painful cheerfulness that Harry had felt strike him straight to the heart, and Xander and Willow had whisked he and his friends off in a hurry. The Sunnydale High School students were now picking up a round of Cokes for the wizards and witch, courtesy of Uncle Rupert.

"This place is wicked," Ron shouted over to Harry as the band began to rift into another song.

Hermione frowned at him. "It's rather loud."

"Well, we're not going to be studying in here are we?" Ron asked pointedly, then nudged the brilliant witch with his elbow. "Lighten up, 'Mione. We're in the States, blend in."

Hermione and Harry snorted. They had been forced to pull Ron away from the bands speakers due to the wizard-born boy's fascination with it. Hermione had feared he had blown out his eardrum when he'd taken to addressing everyone in a loud voice, even when the band was on break. Xander had assured her that it was only concert-ear and that in a few hours Ron would be fine.

"This isn't my idea of exploring American culture, Ron," Hermione said in a cavalier tone.

"There isn't much else to do around here, Hermione," Willow said, as she and Xander returned with the Cokes. "Buffy's mom has an art gallery though and it's really cool. She's got pieces from all over the world. We can take you there tomorrow."

Hermione's eyes had gone from being slightly exasperated to utterly delighted and Harry realized that it would be incredibly difficult to keep Willow and Hermione apart. Ron and Xander both looked as though they were about to groan with pain.

Xander held up his hands as though to offer surrender. "Back the bus-of-crazy-fun up, Will. You're going to overwhelm our guests. You'll have to introduce them to Willow-fun gradually."

Willow scowled at him and threw a napkin at Xander's grinning face. "Xander!" she chided with a giggle. Perhaps, spending some time with Hermione would give Willow a bit more confidence. The redheaded girl always seemed so timid.

Of course, Xander was incredibly blind not to see how much Willow cared for him. Even Harry, who considered himself the least great authority on women, could see it. The way her hazel eyes adored him, it rather made Harry want to slap Xander aside the head.

"That would be wonderful, Willow. If it wouldn't be too much of inconvenience," Hermione answered smartly.

"No, it'd be great. Maybe we could even talk Buffy into tagging along, sort of a girls night," Willow started to ramble.

Hermione smiled and glanced at Ron and Harry imperiously. "Well, it would be nice to have some feminine company."

"Hey," Ron stuttered offended. "I take offense at that."

"Yeah, I'm full of umbridge," Xander agreed, passing a feigned glare at Willow.

Harry put his head in his hands and shook it disparagingly and groaned.

Xander looked questioningly at Willow and received a confused shrug. "Long story?" Willow ventured.

"One I would like to erase from all public acknowledgment," Harry replied, eyeing his friends and thinking of Sirius.

His godfather had not dwindled from his thoughts, but when his mind did turn to Sirius it wasn't as painful as it had been the previous day. Was it wrong for him to heal from that pain after everything Sirius had risked for him? Part of him hated himself for not feeling that pain but another part of him liked to look back at Sirius and not just see that dark day, but the good times he'd spent with Sirius.

The guilt was still there; sometimes striking him like a knife to his belly, but given time he was sure that even that pain would dull. Right now it was a continual cycle of feeling content, guilty, and then saddened.

Returning to England and the wizarding world had caused him to realize how much he would miss this little haven. Albeit, there was the occasional apocalypse and his uncle was the guide to the warrior who fought against it, who happened to be a sixteen-year-old girl. But here, he could just be Harry Potter. No need to save the day, of course he had helped as best he could without braking the Underage Law of Wizardry. He doubted that Fudge would be so lenient with Harry a third time, regardless if he realized Voldemort had returned.

He would miss the anonymity of Sunnydale and the time he'd spent with Uncle Rupert. And it was one of the few times that he wished not to return to Hogwarts, though his uncle had insisted that he continue his education when Harry had mentioned being tutored by Professor Lupin. It was all to easy to forget about Voldemort hear, with the two drops of blood that were temporarily sealing the dark wizard from his mind. Back at Hogwarts he would soon have to deal with the truth of his destiny and prepare to face Voldemort.

"So let me get this straight," Xander was saying, as Harry returned his mind to the conversation. "You guys go to school in the fall and don't come back home until the summer? You live there 24-7 and your teachers are around all the time?" The boyish features of the other boy were arranged in a mask of tragedy. "Something has to be done about this. The public must be alerted."

"It is a boarding school, Xand," Willow reminded humorously.

"It isn't all that bad, mate," Ron assured him.

Hermione smiled her encouragement of Ron's statement. "It's really very stimulating."

"Uh-huh," Xander said in that deadpan voice he did so well. Harry couldn't help but think that if Xander, Fred, and George had been introduced the world would no longer be a safe place.

"Besides you seem to spend a lot of time in the library, Xander," Harry quipped.

Xander shrugged. "My home's way scarier then anything the Hellmouth can spit out."

Harry was startled by this statement. It was said in jest, but Harry could hear the truth in Xander's words. A distinct tone, that he'd heard in his own voice when talking about the Dursleys. Suddenly, he felt a certain kinship with this foreign boy.

"Xander is the only person to spend that much time in the library and still avoid ever cracking a book," Willow said, jibbing him with a finger. "Unless, of course, it's a demon text."

"Which funnily enough, isn't as grueling as my chemistry book," Xander was there with the punch line. "Demon text, an art unto themselves. No one truly appreciates them any more."

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

Buffy had stopped running and had settled inside a quiet graveyard, sitting under a tree with a grassy knoll, waiting for the undead to rise. It was a warm night but she shivered under her leather jacket, feeling as though something was looking over her shoulder. She closed her eyes against the images that were playing in her head and listened for the slightest stir of the earth and the rebirth it gave to the demonic world. Tears had built up but had never spilt over her lids, leaving them feeling salty and sticky.

If there was a crack of a stick or the ruffle of trees she could almost believe someone was following her, but there was nothing, not an out of place sound at all. Just the slightest tingle at the base of her neck that told her something unreal was breathing down it, waiting for her to drop her guard.

"You're getting paranoid, Buffy," she chastised herself, brushing aside a lock of errant blonde hair.

She stood up from her perch of green grass and began to wander through the graveyard, the agitation of not being able to see her pursuer was edging her to move, to act. She wrapped Angel's leather jacket around her more tightly. The cold only seemed to writhe it's way though the animal skin and to her tiny frame quicker.

She stopped walking as she found a freshly dug grave, one that she'd been guarding for two weeks now. She'd seen him rise in her dreams, seen him walk towards her and finish what he had started two weeks ago by dipping his fangs into her sensitive skin and draining her of her life's precious blood. This is where Giles and others had buried the Master and had sanctified his grave. But despite her Watcher's precautions, dirt was unearthed and the gaping hole just below her gaze was empty.

The Master was no longer at rest.

Buffy's heart turned to ice even as it beat harder against her rib cage. Slowly, her every nerve alert, she backed away from the defiled grave. The cold was encompassing now, raking harshly through her lungs as she gulped for air, her eyes wide with fright. Her dreams had whispered this to her, had tried to warn her that he was coming, but she hadn't wanted to believe it.

Her feet froze as she became as cold as the world around her and every step was like walking through the mall on a sale day. She stumbled and feel into the soft ground below her, a wet warmth soaking through her jeans. Tossing her gaze from side to side, she sought for anything that might help her stand but her sight was beginning to cloud like a frosted window.

Just as she passed out, she saw a dark form rush her.

UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU

"The dementors have been sent to Sunnydale, m'lord," Petter Pettigrew, the traitorous rat explained as he knelt before his dark overlord. His sniveling voice, squeaking as he relayed the partial success of Voldemort's plan. "But they are ignoring both Potter and Giles. They have found something more tempting to feed upon."

"Wormtail, your continual blundering is causing me to reconsider your loyalty to me," Voldemort hissed out. "I need that Muggle barrier down and I need it down now, Wormtail. Potter will be inaccessible once he reaches Hogwarts. Now what are you going to do about this little debacle you've placed us in, my loyal Death Eater."

Voldemort had sent the dementors in the hopes of either bringing Potter or his muggle uncle down to an unconscious state. But dementors were poor followers opting to feed their rapacious hunger then to obey the Dark Lord, and apparently latched themselves onto another filthy muggle soul, feeding off their terrible memories.

It had been surprising news to the Dark Lord, when he had entered Potter's mind and had learned that he indeed had family outside his mudblood mother's sister. This Rupert Giles, as Pettigrew had identified him, was some sort of mystic with an ability of magic that Pettigrew did not know.

Apparently, James Potter's older brother had been involved in a dark magic and the wholesome Potter's had thrusted the young lad out of their lives. Whatever this squib had in power had managed to knock Voldemort from Harry's mind and had kept him out ever since. The dementors had been a quick remedy to the problem, One that had been foiled by the downtrodden life of some muggle scum. From what Voldemort's spies had gathered, she was just a young girl, hardly worthy of his attention let alone that of the dementors.

"What would you have of me, m'lord?" Pettigrew squeaked, his pinched face nearly buried in his knees.

"I thought it would be obvious, Wormtail," the Dark Lord answered in a cold and sensuous voice. "I think it's time that Mr. Giles be reunited with his brother, don't you?"

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Angel didn't have time to think, didn't have time to pause, he rushed forward towards Buffy and scooped her into his arms. He could not see the beings around them but he could smell them. A horrid stench that went beyond the grave. It was not that of blood or decaying flesh, but of despair. It tickled the vampires nostrils.

There was more then just their adverse affect on Buffy and the mental images of decades of slaughtering their mere presence seemed to increase that made Angel push himself to beyond all his limits. It was as though something was trying to suck out his heart from his chest and yet had come up against a rock wall. They were attempting to pull out his soul, he realized. The part of himself that distinguished him from all other vampires, that distinguished him from the monster he'd once been.

He had one advantage. Whatever these things were, they weren't used to dealing with vampires and his demonic strength was his and Buffy's saving grace. He closed his eyes out against the memories of Angelus' rule in his body and pumped his legs towards Giles' new apartment.

The Watcher would know what to do to save his Slayer.

Despite the distance he'd gained from the creatures, Angel did not slow. If he could smell them, he feared that they in turn could track him. Mounting the stairs in giant leaps, Angel pounded the door with his fist, sniffing the air for any scent of their invisible foes.

"Come on, Giles, be home," he muttered, cradling Buffy in his one arm while continuing his vigorous pounding.

It was Remus Lupin that answered the door. "Angel?" he questioned, his eyes darting to Buffy. "What happened?"

"Is Giles home?" Angel snapped, ignoring the werewolf's question.

"Rupert," Lupin cried out towards the stairs.

Giles came lumbering down the stairs with a cold compress at the small of his back. He nearly stumbled down the bottom set of stairs when he saw Angel. "What is it?"

"Invite me in," Angel demanded.

"Come in," Giles said without hesitation and Angel barreled past Lupin and into Giles' living room. He set Buffy gently on the couch, arranging her head on one of the throw pillows.

Giles was at Buffy's side examining her. "How did this happen?" the Watcher questioned without accusation.

"I'm not sure. She was fine one moment and then she was unconscious," Angel answered, his gaze fixed on the reposed features of the Vampire Slayer. "She hasn't been herself lately and I've been sensing trouble. The demon world has been too quiet for too long. So I've been following her. There was something out there, Giles. Something not nice."

"Did you recognize it?" Giles asked, rising from the couch and walking to his new study.

"No, I couldn't even see it," Angel answered, following him, Lupin on his heels.

Giles paused, searching Angel's face. "Then how?"

"I could smell them," the vampire continued. "They weren't human, whatever they were. I couldn't hear a blood beat nor the wisp of breath. And the images I saw in my mind..." he trailed off building up the walls to those memories. "Terrible reminders. Of my past."

"It's a wonder you didn't pass out," Lupin entered into the conversation.

"You know what they were, Remus?" Giles asked.

"The worst kind of magical creature," the werewolf answered. "A dementor."

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

"We better head out," Harry said, glancing at the clock over the stage. "Uncle Rupert will probably be getting anxious about now."

Hermione saw his smile. "I see things have improved."

Harry shrugged, slightly embarrassed. "I almost feel bad that I don't feel worse."

"Because of Sirius?" the clever witch asked.

Harry nodded. "He died to save me and I moved on as though he didn't even exist."

Hermione gave him an understanding look. "He died because he wanted to give you an opportunity to be happy. That's all he cared about in the end, Harry."

A feral chuckle sounded behind the group of five friends. "This is almost two easy," the now recognizable features of a vampire, muttered to his much larger group of friends. "Five little mortals."

"Remember we only need the redheaded girl and the boy with the scar alive. The rest are fodder," another said, his yellow eyes glittering on Willow. The American girl backed into Xander's arms.

Ron looked over at Hermione with a hopeful glint in his eye. "Is that what I think it is?" he asked in a tremulous voice.

"Vampires," Harry answered for her.

Swallowing, Ron nodded and pulled out his wand. "You know a spell to kill them, right 'Mione?"

"Well...," Hermione started.

"What do you mean, 'well'?" Ron accused.

"You know, we generally run at this time," Willow stated. "And get the Slayer."

Harry cocked an eyebrow at his two best friends. "I diversion, do you reckon?" His wand came out to join Ron's as did Hermione's.

"What did you have in mind?" Hermione started.

Harry shrugged, trying to show that same nonchalance he'd seen Buffy display the first time he'd see a real vampire. "First DA lesson. We knocked out Snape with it." He waited for recognition to dawn on their faces. "On three."

"One."

"Two."

"Tonks."

"Ignus," the Auror shouted and a ball of fire about the size of a man's two fists put together shot out from the end of her wand, barreling through the ranks of the vampires.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14: American Forgetfulness and the Vampire Seeker

"Wotcher, Harry," the tall, lean Auror with vibrant pink hair and a sweet heart-shaped face greeted the young wizard as the ball of fire tore through a number of the vampires. The animated corpses flamed with the fire and were quickly turned to cinder. But many of them dodged the mystical fire with the ease of demonic grace. "That uncle of yours teach you anything useful to get out of a situation like this."

"Oh, we just mainly run," Xander supplies cheerfully.

"Or get captured," Willow added.

The American boy nodded. "And that never ends well."

Harry had to smile at the banter and the looks of exasperation that crossed over Ron, Hermione, and Tonks faces. Harry still didn't feel as though he understood the American teens any better then he did when he arrived but he found their peculiar humor quiet relieving when having to deal with the more darker side of Sunnydale.

Tonks had healed well from the injuries she'd received during the rescue mission at the Department of Mysteries. Though, Harry had caught a glimpse of Tonks as an aura back at the ministry, he saw it full blown here. Her pretty face was intense, mimicking vaguely the look of a huntress that Buffy donned when she was slaying.

Slim as Tonks was, she had managed to create a barrier with her body between the vampires and the five teenagers. She had her wand before her, the long length of would looking as intimidating as if it were a stake. If he didn't know Tonks was generally good-willed he would have balked from her then; she was a threat and Harry hoped the vampires understood that.

"I've magicked maybe one or two vampires at a time," Tonks explained in a half-whisper. "But never this many without backup. We need to make an escape."

"Buffy, the Vampire Slayer, was training with Uncle Rupert. It's probably best we retreat there," Harry answered.

Xander couldn't stay out of the conversation. "Why don't you just use that wand to obliviate them?"

Tonks frowned at this statement. "How would removing their memories help the situation?"

"Huh?"

"What?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "A matter of terminology."

"Can we just get to the running part of our program?" Willow asked.

Ron held up a finger. "I second that."

"Right," Tonks uttered her voice sharp and determined. "_Ignus_," she shouted repeatedly, now sending a number of volleys of the fireballs towards the crowd of approaching vampires. "Run," she ordered.

The group of Sunnydale students were off before Tonks could even finish the clipped word. Having lived and worked alongside the vampire slayer for the last six months, they knew when to take the opportunity for an escape. Ron, Hermione, and Harry were only a step behind, pumping their legs for all they were worth. Harry could hear Tonks close by, her shoes pounding the pavement behind him.

"They're following us," Tonks announced after awhile.

"They want me and Harry," Willow offered.

Harry hadn't noticed this before. "Me? Why?"

"Don't know," Willow answered in an airy voice. "Didn't take the time to ask. Giles should be able to figure it out."

"I just hope your uncle is as good as everyone makes him out to be, mate," Ron murmured to Harry.

Remus watched Angel as the ensouled vampire hovered over the unconscious Slayer. Rupert was making a cup of hot chocolate, the easiest way for Buffy to ingest the chocolate and fight off the effects of a dementor. It unnerved the werewolf to think that dementors had followed he and Harry from England, let alone that they had fed off a recently traumatized Slayer.

"It's lucky Harry prefers this to tea in the morning," Rupert said, as he poured the steaming water into a mug of ground chocolate. "I would have never kept it here."

"She'll be alright, Rupert," Remus soothed, noticing the Watcher's anxiety.

"What are they doing here, Remus?" the older man shot back. "They're supposed to guard Azkaban."

Remus looked at his hands that were fidgeting with a frayed end of his robes and forced himself to still the nervous habit. "They could be here for Harry," he admitted slowly. "It wouldn't be the first time that someone has sent dementors to silence him and it has been rumored that they heed the call of Voldemort."

Rupert's eyes widened so quickly that Remus nearly didn't catch it. "He failed to join his mind with Harry's." He started to stir the hot chocolate absently. "Then why go for Buffy?"

"They're attracted to negative emotion, they feed off it as a vampire would from blood. Harry's happier then I've seen him in a long time, probably happier then he's been since James and Lily died. His negative emotions would be buried deeper, where Buffy's right now are sitting on the surface, bubbling seductively towards them."

"I should never have let her go out alone," Rupert said, shaking his head. The chocolate had been adequately melted into the hot water and he banged the spoon against the edge of the cup, shaking the access liquid. "I had hoped to get her to come to terms with what had happened but I pushed her too far and she ran out. Right into their hands." He paused, scrutinizing his handiwork before calling, "Angel."

The vampire vaulted off the leather couch and was inside the kitchen before Remus had time to discern his movement. Gently he accepted the proffered drink and returned to Buffy's side, lifting her into a sitting position inside his embrace and serving sips of the warm liquid into the young girl.

"It shouldn't take long for the chocolate to work," Remus informed as both men watched the Slayer and the vampire closely.

Rupert sighed heavily, removing his glasses and cleaning them. "I'd better search for Harry. He, Xander, and Willow were taking Ron and Hermione out for the night. The sooner they all get indoors where it's safe, the easier I'll breath."

"Harry can take care of them if it comes down to that, but I wouldn't be surprised if Tonks has already spotted the dementors. Clumsy she may be, but she's rather a good auror," Remus assured the nervous man.

Abruptly, Buffy gasped and her shifting eyes opened up to the world around her. "The Master?" she cried.

Angel glanced over at the two men and Rupert shook his head. "He's not here, Buffy," Angel assured him. "You killed him. He can't ever come back."

"No, he can. His bones are gone. They're going to bring him back," Buffy said, struggling out of Angel's grasp. "Giles, we've got to stop them."

"Buffy, I've never heard of a revivification spell actually working," Rupert assured her, coming out of the kitchen arch and replacing his glasses. "And it wasn't the Master who attacked you at the graveyard."

"Attacked?" Buffy questioned, confusion wrinkling her brow. "I wasn't attacked."

"You were, that's why you passed out," Angel explained quietly, backing away now that Buffy was alright. It was almost painful for Remus to see the distance that separated them and yet he understood it all too well. A dark creature could not love without causing pain to the one they loved.

Remus stood forward. "You couldn't have seen them, those who aren't born with magic inside of them can't."

"What are they?" Buffy demanded, standing up from the couch.

"They're called dementors, Buffy," Rupert answered. "A mystical manifestation of the deepest pains inside all of us. To survive they must feed off human emotion."

Buffy shivered. "They were feeding off of me?" she asked. "Like a vampire?"

"Not exactly," Remus stepped in, knowing he had a greater definition then the Watcher. "They could feed off of you for an eternity if they'd like, but its truly the soul they desire. If Angel hadn't gotten to you in time, I fear they would have removed your soul."

Paling, Buffy looked up at Angel searching his strong features. "I'm alright," he said, his eyes caressing her gently. He gave a half-smile. "I guess gypsy curses are pretty strong, but I could feel them pulling at me."

"How do I kill'em?" Buffy asked, her steely gaze snapping between Rupert and Remus.

"You can't. They aren't alive, not physical," Remus countered. "This is something that Tonks and I will have to deal with. But if they're especially tenacious it may take some time."

Rupert held a warning finger before the girl. "And you are not leaving here until they are dispersed."

"Lupin could it be these dementia things that are trying to resurrect the Master?" Buffy questioned abruptly, ignoring Rupert's admonishment.

Remus shook his head. "No. They couldn't and wouldn't revive a soulless beast."

"Which means, we've got someone else doing the dirty work," Buffy deduced. "Angel, any ideas who?"

The vampire shrugged. "Not that I've heard. Of course, I'm not in the loop as I once was. But I agree with Giles, no one has ever resurrected a vampire successfully and these dementors seem to be the real threat."

"But if it was done by the anointed? Isn't he supposed be like the undeads messiah?" Buffy continued this line of thinking doggedly. Unable to break away from the constant fear instilled in her by not only the dementors but the happenings of past weeks. "He might be able to pull it off."

"Buffy," Angel said softly, edging closer to the slip of a girl.

Part of her seemed to lean towards him while another backed away. Her feet carrying her where her heart wanted to remain. "No," she would not be supplicated. "I know he's coming. And we've got to be prepared or all hell is going to break loose."

Irony crowned the moment, when Rupert's front door swung open and the group of teenagers with a haggard Tonks in tow, filed through in rapid succession. Each leaned over recovering their breath, their hands clutching their chests to sooth pounding hearts.

Tonks looked up at Remus her almond-shaped eyes snapping on his. "We've got trouble."

Buffy swung towards her Watcher. "Told ya," she said as the sound of incredible fists began to knock against the walls of Giles' apartment. Hedwig, Harry's owl, began to flap around in her cage. Harry crossed over to the corner of the living room, took her out, and began to stroke her feathers.

"I thought a vampire couldn't come in somewhere it wasn't invited," Willow demanded.

"Yes, well, that doesn't exactly count the courtyard outside of the apartment, Willow," Giles answered harshly. "Are you alright?"

The recent arrivals all nodded their heads. "The girl thinks they're after her and Harry," Tonks said, nodding her pink head towards Willow.

Fear clutched Buffy's heart and held it in a vice. "What? How do you know?" she asked, nearly leaping at Willow. The Slayer was supposed to be the target of vampires not the Slayer's friends.

"One of them said that they need me and Harry still with the breathing and the others. Well the others weren't so lucky," Willow answered in an exhausted stutter.

"You and Harry?" Giles questioned, looking over at his nephew before moving through the crowd to his study.

Lupin pressed the forgotten cup of hot chocolate in her hands. "Finish this," he whispered to her. "It will help." His hands were gentle against hers, almost feathery as though he were afraid to touch her.

"I'm alright," she assured him, but took the warm mug into her hands anyway. She felt a shiver that differed from the ones the dementors had caused to rack through her body. Something she always felt when Remus Lupin was around. "Will the dementors come here?"

"Most likely," Lupin answered truthfully. "Angel and yourself are too much of a treat for them to ignore. But I think for the moment you've given them the slip. Which gives us time to prepare."

"Prepare for what?" Buffy asked, unconsciously sipping at the hot chocolate. It warmed her in ways nothing else had, not even Angel's leather jacket that still hung from her slim shoulders.

"There are at least three people in this room that can repel a dementor, possibly more then that," Lupin explained in a soothing tone with a mysterious glint of mischief in his eye. "You needn't worry about them now that we are aware of their presence."

"I'm still iffy about all this magic," Buffy replied. "Wasn't too much with it back in L.A., mainly it was see a vampire, kill a vampire. Sunnydale has gotten so much more complicated."

Lupin smiled at her in the same tentative manner that he'd use to touch her hand. "Most things do with time."

"Good Lord," Giles' exclamation came from inside the study, quickly followed by her Watcher.

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Speak of the irony. So what do you got?" she asked, indicating the open book in Giles' arms.

Giles cleared his throat nervously. "I do have several volumes on revivification spells. Most of them are done to revive powerful demon essences for a short time or to raise the dead in other forms then vampires. Zoombies to be specific."

"The point Giles," Buffy said sharply. She was still on edge about being attacked by beings she couldn't see.

"Oh, yes, um, right. To get to the point, it also has a variation of spells regarding reviving a recently destroyed vampire. The Master was no ordinary vampire," Giles said.

Buffy snorted. "No kidding. He had this strange hypno-thingy going for him."

"Among the 'hypno-thingy', he was believed to never have carried a soul even as a human. Which would explain why his bones were left behind. There always had to be a repository for the demon essence," came Giles explanation.

"So where most vampires dust and the demon is released, the Master's essence is sucked into his bones. His marrow," Willow deduced keenly.

"Exactly," Giles agreed. "Which is why it might be possible for the Master to rise again."

"And I remember you telling me he was gone," Buffy accused, looking at both Giles and Angel.

"Yes, well I didn't think it was possible because there is a specific bloodletting ritual that must be performed for this to occur," the Watcher elucidated.

Buffy was beginning to feel claustrophobic, nervous about the many people standing around her, all waiting for her to perform a miracle a second time. "What needs to be bled? Are we talking a certain kind of animal, a virgin, what?"

"Well, the best I can translate is, the person or persons closest to the Master when he died," Giles answered.

"That's me," Buffy said softly. When those beseeching eyes looked doubtful, she added, "We killed each other, that sort of creates a bond."

"That would make sense," Harry agreed, a hand moving up to rube at the scar on his forehead. Giles grabbed his arm before he could brush away the blood sealing out Voldemort from his mind.

The Watcher shook his head. "But the fact that they want Harry and Willow would negate that assumption."

"Maybe they wanted to lure me with a trap," Buffy guessed.

"Then why not take all of us," Xander objected.

"It's true, Buffy," Hermione stepped in. "It would only be logical to take more hostages then procure only a few selected with seemingly no ties."

Buffy threw up her hands in disgust and turned towards the group of wizards. "Can we have a little less from the English civilians. This isn't your job, it's mine."

"It is my job," Tonks said heatedly.

"No, you're job is to make sure Harry doesn't have dementia following after him," Buffy snapped, angrily.

Tonks' pretty face screwed up in a frown of confusion. "What is it with American's and memory loss?"

"She means dementors, Tonks," Lupin answered.

Ron and Hermione exchanged nervous looks. While Harry blinked in confusion. "Dementors, here?"

"They were feeding off of Angel and Buffy," Giles said.

"And what exactly does this have to do with forgetfulness?" Xander shot in.

Buffy groaned loudly. "Look, I'll take care of this."

"Buffy, this is not a responsible action," Giles cut her off as she started to storm for the door. "You can't go into this without knowing who truly is the aim of their desire. It is extremely important that you exercise patients."

Frustration with no small amount of fear was mounting inside the young Slayer. "And how long before those vampires figure they can smoke us out? Come on, Giles, we don't have a grando amount of time."

"Give me a little longer to translate the text. If it comes down to the worst, then yes, we'll have to make our escape, but right now they aren't likely to do us any harm. They need either you or Harry and Willow, to perform this ritual. As long as we stay together we're safe," Giles interceded.

Buffy deflated after a moment with a sigh. "Fine." Hedwig squawked at a particularly loud bang. "And could someone shut up that feather pillow?" Buffy asked before marching into the bathroom and shutting the door.

"Why is she acting like such a B-I-T-C-H?" Willow hissed to the group who had pushed aside the furniture and had hunkered down on the floor, the adults in one area, the youth in another.

Xander's furrowed forehead, was slashed with his dark eyebrows. "A bit-cha?"

"I think Uncle Rupert's right, we just need to give her a few minutes to collect herself," Harry put in, knowing how terrible Buffy was feeling right now. After finding out about the prophecy concerning himself and Voldemort he'd distanced himself from Ron, Hermione, and all his other friends. There was just a point in your life when you knew no one else could exactly comfort you in the way you wanted and so you choose isolation.

"She was scarey, mate," Ron put in. "And I've seen Hermione upset."

"Ronald," Hermione said scathingly.

Ron just gave her his sad puppy-face, a trick he seemed to have picked up over the summer months and Hermione melted under it. "You do tend to have quite a temper, 'Mione."

"And I suppose you're always even minded," Hermione said, lifting her chin.

Willow leaned closer to Harry and whispered, "Those two fight more then Xander and Cordelia."

Harry smirked, having seen first hand the bashing matches that Cordelia and Xander could get in to. "You should have seen them at the Triwizard Ball. I thought one of them wasn't going to make it out alive."

"Are they dating?" Willow asked.

"Not then," Harry answered. "And not now, that I'm aware of."

Harry's attention was brought to Angel, as he paced between the groups. The vampire hardly fit in with either group, and was releasing his anxiety by making as much movement as he could possibly inside the confines of the flat. He felt sorry for the vampire, although he'd read one of Uncle Rupert's books that had contained a history of Angelus and knew what the vampire had done in his past. It rather seemed to Harry that it wasn't much different from Professor Lupin's affliction. Angel had little choice in the acts that Angelus had performed.

He looked over at the Watcher to the Slayer, his uncle, as Rupert Giles poured over the test describing how the Master would arise. No wonder Buffy was going mental. He knew how he felt when Voldemort had risen, after everyone was sure he was out of the picture forever. Why was it that all the evil people of this world could be brought back, but people like his parents and Sirius were doomed to an early death?

"What do you think they're going on about?" Ron asked, having ended his recent argument with Hermione.

Harry shrugged. "Do you reckon we ought to move closer?"

"Closer?" Willow suddenly gasped. "Closest? Oh, I got it. I got it."

"Got what?" Harry asked, rising with her as she seemed to float to her feet.

But the redheaded girl ignored him and rushed to Uncle Rupert's side. Harry gestured for the others to follow him as he traced Willow's step. He noted that Angel had somehow gone from one corner of the room to the other without screaming his presence. Having come in towards the end of Willow's explanation Harry and the others only caught glimpse of it.

"....physically close, Giles. We've been thinking too figuratively," Willow said emphatically.

"Dear Lord, I do believe you're right Willow and in that case, they may already have..."

"Ms. Calendar and Cordelia," Willow finished.

"Which means they've got two out of the five for the gold star," Buffy said from behind them. Harry turned to face her and found the slim blonde looking ever so much like the huntress. "And we need information."

Without another word, Buffy walked over to the front door and flung it open. A vampire immediately flung herself at the barrier trying to get out those that were protected by it. Almost everyone backpedaled from the door, save Angel, Buffy, Tonks, and Uncle Rupert. They all seemed to understand what Buffy was doing.

Buffy snapped her right hand through the barrier and grabbed the vampire by the throat. "What's your name honey?" she asked in a cold tone. The vampire shook her head and her long mane of black hair flowed behind her. "I got to know your name so we can become best friends." Buffy's left hand yanked the silver cross at her neck and pushed it against the vampire girls forehead, causing the demonic features to ripple across her once pretty face.

"Celia," the vampire hissed in pain.

"Giles," Buffy ordered.

The Watcher invited the vampire into his home. Just as the words were leaving Uncle Rupert's lips, Buffy acted. With one swift movement, the Slayer pulled the vampire girl through the door and threw her to the ground. Allowing the vampire no respite for escape, Buffy was on her in an instant, using her forearm to hold the girl in place.

"Now we can do this the easy way, in which you give me the information I need and I dust you quickly or we can do it the hard way, where I make your un-life a dying hell until you give me the information I need and dust you quickly," Buffy threatened. She gave the vampire an innocent questioning look. "Now what's it going to be?"

Angel walked in front of Harry's line of sight, blocking Hermione and Ron as well as Xander and Willow from the production before them. "You really shouldn't see this."

"Come on Deadboy, what's a little vamp torture between friends," Xander joked weakly.

When Harry heard the muffled screams of the girl vampire he turned his head completely from it and walked over to Hedwig who was increasingly ruffled by the activity outside. He stroked the white feathers, trying to drown out the noises Buffy was extracting from the vampire girl.

Finally, the vampire girl cracked, "The woman and the girl are inside an old factory just outside Sunnydale's borders. But you can't stop him. You can't stop the Master rising."

"Want to bet?" Buffy drew a stake out from her jacket and drove it into the vampire's still heart. She became nothing more then ashes. "I guess I should have told her the odds." Now her attention was focused on Uncle Rupert. "How do I get out of here, Giles?"

"Through there," the Watcher pointed to the window upstairs. "But not alone."

"Giles, I can't keep protecting all of you," Buffy said heatedly.

"This isn't about you protecting us. What happens if the dementors show up and you're in midst of a battle? You need someone who can deflect them while you're fighting until the rest of us can break through and back you up."

Harry heard his uncle's words and knew exactly who it had to be to protect Buffy while she protected the rest of the world. He walked quietly to his room and took out his broom. Tonks would be helpful in a fight against the vampires but then her attention would be split between deflecting the dementors and fighting against the living dead. Professor Lupin could produce a _patronus_ but he might slow Buffy down. Hermione hadn't ever produced one when the dementors were crouching down on her and Ron still had difficulties even in the Room of Requirement. It had to be him.

"Tonks, I think you'd be the best person to accompan...," Uncle Rupert trailed off as he noticed Harry clutching his broom.

"Sorry, but I would disagree Uncle Rupert," Harry said in a strong voice. "Tonks doesn't ride a broom nearly as well as I do."

"Absolutely not," Uncle Rupert and Professor Lupin said simultaneously.

Buffy was watching him curiously, as though not sure how to take this offer. Harry straightened his shoulders and looked her square in the eye, allowing her to see that he wasn't afraid. And he wasn't. He trusted her to hold the tide at bay while he kept a lookout for the evil from his world.

"Harry, this isn't your fight," Buffy told him quietly.

"We'll make sure that one another is safe," Harry assured her. He tossed his broom lightly in the air. "No one can catch me on this, not even a vampire."

"He is the best seeker to ever play for Gryffindor," Professor Lupin said on side to Uncle Rupert and Harry knew he was halfway to convincing his former defense teacher.

Uncle Rupert studied him for a moment, searching his features as though to memorize them or to decipher what may lay beneath them. It was several long moments before the Watcher nodded. "Willow, you and I will give ourselves over to the vampires. They need us alive until they perform the ritual. Buffy, you and Harry take off and let them see Harry. Hopefully, they'll follow. We need to know for sure that Cordelia and Ms. Calendar are already there."

Buffy nodded. "The rest of you follow, once the coast is clear."

"Are you sure about this Giles?" Willow asked tentatively.

Uncle Rupert gave her a kind look. "I'll keep you safe."

Harry was surprised when his uncle grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and pulled him into a hug. "Be careful," the Watcher hissed into his ear. "Do exactly as Buffy tells you, it will keep you alive. And keep a good grip on that broom."

A smile touched Harry's lips. "I will."

When the young wizard turned to the Slayer, Buffy was eyeing his broom with a wary expression. "Flying really isn't my thing."

"Don't worry, I'm very safe," Harry said. Ron and Hermione both scoffed then. "What?"

"No offense, Harry, but you are a bit wild on that thing," Hermione said apologetically.

Ron chuckled, "It's true, Harry. I stopped counting how many times you had to go to Madame Pomfrey."

"This isn't exactly instilling confidence in me," Buffy said peevishly.

Harry shrugged chagrined. "Quidditch is a very intense game. Sometimes I took a risk or two to get a win. Usually, I'm very safe."

"A risk or two?" Ron asked.

"Oh, shut up," Harry said good-natured.

"Xand, I leave all my CD's to you. Will can have my wardrobe," Buffy said, conducting her last will and testament. "Giles should get my weapons."

Hermione gave her a coquettish grin. "He is reckless but no one has died yet."

Buffy winced and Harry wished he'd explained more about what had happened previously with the Master. But she seemed to shrug it off as she turned to Harry. "Let's go before I loose my nerve."

They mounted the stairs together and Harry pushed the large window open. He slung his leg over his broom and turned to make sure Buffy did as well. "Just hold on tight to me." With that, he kicked off and they were in the cold night air.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15: Vampires, a Stag, and a Rat.

Buffy screamed as Harry's broom lifted them into the air, the wind almost instantly sucking the air from her lungs and whipping her long blond hair into her face. Instinctively, her arms tightened around his chest and held on to dear life. It wasn't until Harry turned to her and squeaked out a message that he couldn't breath that she realized that she'd nearly killed him with Slayer strength.

Loosening her grip, she murmured an apology and leaned her head against his back robbing his body of heat as well as blocking her view of the fast-moving town of Sunnydale beneath her. In the quietest parts of her mind, she wished it was Angel her arms were wrapped around right now. Those few moments right when she'd woken up, when he'd held her, had been too full of euphoria to describe. Every nerve in her tingled when Angel was around, made her heart feel lighter.

Suddenly, Harry dived and Buffy shut her eyes against the onrushing ground below them. "Are you trying to get me killed again?" she shouted over the din of hissing wind.

"Sorry," he replied only marginally abashed. "I haven't flown in a while and I've been itching for a good dive."

"I hope you got it out of your system," Buffy chastised. "I really don't want to go through that again. I felt my stomach in my forehead."

"Are you sure no one is going to pay attention to us?" Harry asked, as he looked down at the night darkened town. "Two people flying on a broomstick isn't exactly justifiable behavior."

Buffy pulled a strand of her hair from her mouth, it came away sticky with her lip gloss. "When I first got here, the Master tried to use a ceremony called the Harvest to rise from the Hellmouth. One of his servants, a lug of a vampire came into the Bronze and started feeding on everyone in there. After I dusted the guy on stage, everyone explained it away as gangs on PCP."

"Ron and I flew an enchanted car over London and every Muggle managed to see that," Harry told her. "We were almost expelled."

The Slayer didn't know what to say about that. A car was a whole lot bigger then a broomstick and Sunnydale wasn't your usual 'Muggle' town. Whatever they saw, they were all too happily inclined to ignore the more eccentric parts of their home.

"Is that Angel?" Harry asked suddenly, pointing one hand down few yards away from the vampire horde that held Willow and Giles in their grasp and were currently following after Harry and Buffy.

She had known he was down there, following almost immediately after they had taken off from the window. There had been no need to look down and verify his presence, she could always feel when he was near now.

"Yeah, that's him," Buffy said softly, the sound just barely carrying to Harry's ears. Looking over his shoulder, he gave her a curious look. Buffy quickly decided to change the subject. "Are they still following us?"

"Hmm? Oh, yes," Harry stuttered, caught off guard by her divergence off the subject path. "Do I just lead them to the warehouse?"

"That's the plan, they want you there anyway," Buffy explained. "I just got to make sure that they don't get you. I don't like this plan, I should have come alone."

Harry shook his head, as he dipped them below a cloud. "You can't fight a Dementor. They can only be repelled by a _patronus_."

"What is that exactly?"

Harry shrugged. "A Dementor feeds off darkness, but a _patronus _is nothing but our happiest memories. There's nothing to fuel them and they eventually have to flee. Not many can produce a _patronus_ it's very difficult magic."

"And you can conjure one of these things?" Buffy asked, a bit dubious, a bit awed.

A reddish hue touched Harry's cheeks. "It came out more from necessity then anything else."

"How is that?"

"They have a sort of vendetta against me. Two years ago they came to Hogwarts searching for an escaped prisoner, but spent a lot of time feeding off me. Professor Lupin taught me how to produce one for fear that they would eventually do me further harm," Harry explained with a pained expression. "Whenever they were around I could hear my mother screaming as Voldemort killed her. I almost grew to like it, because I could hear her voice, could see her in my minds eye."

"Then why did you learn to use the patrony thingy?" Buffy asked, seeing Harry in a new light. The boy hadn't just been targeted, he'd been hounded. Voldemort forever ruining his life with one spell to destroy both his parents.

"It got too dangerous when the Dementors came around, especially when they broke Dumbledore's rules and crossed into Hogwarts. I was playing Quidditch at the time and passed out while on my broom," Harry explained uneasily. "If Dumbledore hadn't been there, I would have died."

"I'm sorry," Buffy said sincerely. "It must have been rough." Was that why she'd seen Merrick die in her mind so often of late and why the Master continued to hound her, even when his bones had been laid to rest?

Harry stiffened on his broom, the muscles in his back straining like steel. "They can't hurt me now. And I'll make sure they don't hurt you."

"We'll watch each other's backs," she agreed, thinking of the vampires that were waiting to bleed him, her Watcher, and her best friend. "You'd be surprised how often this sort of thing happens."

"I think, I'm beginning to adapt," Harry replied wryly. "At least Voldemort comes annually."

Buffy went silent as Harry touched down on the roof of the warehouse. She was in stealth slayer mood and her 'spidersense' was tingling. Like a cat, she padded across the roof to the doomed skylight and peered over the edge, Harry walking slightly less coordinated along side of her.

Down below, Cordelia and Ms. Calendar were already hanging upside-down above the bones of the Master. Each clearly unconscious, their arms dangled below very much like the wind ruffling the branches of a tree. Harry leaned forward and placed a careful hand against the window pane.

"We've got to help them," Harry breathed quietly, his eyes trained on Cordelia.

Buffy watched him shocked. She had recognized Cordelia's attraction to Harry, but hadn't thought it was reciprocated. In fact, Buffy was having a hard time not having major wiggins right where she stood. Cordelia, Miss I'm-So-Popular herself, was being crushed on by Giles' nephew. Burrr!

"That's my job," Buffy said. "You look out for the invisible ones."

Harry nodded after a moment, he was smart enough to know that he still wasn't ready to go up against that many vampires. Buffy wasn't even sure she could do it herself, when Angel leapt onto the roof and walked over to them.

"You know, being stalked isn't exactly a turn on," Buffy snapped at him. Why did he have to be here? Why couldn't he just leave her alone and make her life that much more simple?

He ignored her attitude. "Somebody needs to be watching your back."

"Don't you mean my neck?" she asked.

"Buffy?" Harry brought her attention to him.

"We've got work to do," Angel said between clenched teeth. "And you're wasting time."

His coldness didn't help the matter, she still wanted to rush into his arms and let him chase away the darkness. "You're right. I have work to do. Just stay away from me."

Angel's dark eyes glared at her. "Happy to oblige." He said and vaulted himself off the edge of the warehouse roof.

Buffy turned around and returned to the skylight. "We wait for Giles, Willow, and the others to come through before we start. I'll jump through first and then you follow on your broom. I don't think you could make the jump and I'm going to be a little busy killing."

"I thought you liked Angel," he said softly as they waited.

"He's a vampire, I'm not supposed to like them, I'm supposed to kill them," Buffy recited in a monotone. "It's clearly stated in the title, Vampire Slayer. Can we drop it, okay?"

"Sure, sorry," Harry apologized, turning his gaze back to the two prone women. "Do you think they're okay. They wouldn't have killed them already, would they?"

"No," Buffy was quick to assure him. "If they just needed their blood they could have killed them easily and just brought them here. No, I think it has to be fresh."

Harry paled and gave a weak smile. "I miss Voldemort."

"No you don't," she said evenly.

He nodded gravely. "You're right, I don't."

"Show time," Buffy said, as she saw Willow's flaming hair and Giles' tweed coat. "Now, remember, stay out of the fight. You come anywhere near a vampire purposefully, and I'll put you in the hospital."

"Isn't that kind of counter productive?" Harry asked wryly.

"Not as much as if you get yourself killed," Buffy reminded. "See ya below."

With that Buffy took a running leap through the glass skylight landing in the middle of the vampire lot. She pulled her stake from her coat and cocked it next to her ear. "Who's first?"

The first vampire to emerge was caught by his coat and thrown back, as Angel made his way into the battle. Somehow she knew that he'd be right alongside her when the fight began. Buffy didn't take the time to appreciate Angel's battle abilities, instead she focused on her own. There was more then one vampire in this warehouse and Buffy planned on causing each and everyone to be nothing more then allergy inducers.

YYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY

Harry floated down to the floor on his broom and instantly edged toward the nearest wall. Chaos had broken out, with Buffy and Angel cutting a swath out of the vampires as they went towards the Master and the two women dangling precariously over the decrepit bones. Buffy had made him swear on pain of injury that he would stay out of the fight, but that didn't mean he couldn't help release the others.

Looking around, he paused to watch Uncle Rupert dust a vampire with surprising strength and agility. Harry had watched Uncle Rupert and Buffy train, and had seen his uncle effectively placed on his backside a number of times without Buffy even breaking a nail, but it looked as though he had discounted his uncle's abilities to readily.

It was only a moment later that he saw Ron and Hermione, helping Willow and Xander with a rather large brut of a vampire, Ron and Xander holding the vampire's arms back, while Willow and Hermione searched frantically for a sharpened piece of wood. Tonks stepped forward to save the day.

Remus came further into the battle, perhaps to test out everything he knew about Defense Against the Dark Arts and sent flames from his wand at several vampires behind Angel's back. Harry made a mental note to take private lessons from both Uncle Rupert and Professor Lupin. Especially since Sunnydale had become more like a home then just the place he was forced to reside.

Harry stopped when he suddenly felt the temperature in the room plummet and knew that his chance of rescuing the damsels in distress had just been trumpeted by keeping everyone from oncoming Dementors. He pulled his wand out and did another quick survey of the room.

"Professor Lupin," he cried out.

"I feel them, Harry. It shouldn't be too much for you," Lupin called back. "Just keep them as far back as you can."

Harry's teeth began to chatter as the air around him crackled with the cold, sending ripples of gooseflesh all up and down his exposed arms. He had long since gotten used to the Dementors' manipulation of the elements, but he had no defense against them, save for that of his _patronus_. Harry began to draw happy memories to himself.

Professor Lupin had once told him it only took one happy memory, one strong moment of joy to produce a _patronus_. He had several of them now, as complicated and mixed as any flutter of happiness, but they were his and he wove them together in a fine gossamer strand of magic. Harry felt the power rise inside of him and almost was afraid to let it out. After the Department of Mysteries and what had happened with Bellatrix Lestrange, he had been hesitant to use any sort of magic.

But Uncle Rupert's words reminded him that he choose how he used his magic, that the person inside of him dictated the magic as well and he let it burn clean and pure. It was a liberating feeling as he turned his wand into the mass of cold unyielding Dementors and cried the words to powerful charm.

"_Expecto Patronum_," and almost immediately from his wand tip a silver essence poured out like molten steel and solidified into the shape of a stag, the form of his father's animagus transformation.

Harry watched with a shine of joy in his eyes as his _patronus_ ran through the leagues of Dementors, scattering them as a dog herded sheep. "Go get them, Prongs," he whispered.

The stag crossed closely to Buffy as one of the Dementors rushed to get at the girl whose terrible ordeals were waving deliciously at them. Her chosen victim starred at the silvery charm and Buffy took the initiative to stake it through the heart, causing it to explode like a firework umbrella.

Buffy didn't even waste time dusting the ash from her clothes as the vampires dwindled to an elderly looking man who might have once been a preacher. Harry lost track of what happened afterwards as Dementors began to sneak past the defense his lone _patronus_ was giving. He needed help and scanned the area. Lupin and Tonks were engaged with a vampire each, Uncle Rupert, Willow, and Xander were making their way towards Ms. Calendar and Cordelia. Ron and Hermione were slowly making their way to him, cautious to not interfere with the vampires that still needed slaying.

Buffy shivered and swayed on her feet as a Dementor ventured too close and before Harry's _patronus_ could chase it away. Harry turned to his two best friends, hoping that last years teachings had not been in vain.

"Ron, Hermione, I need you're help. There are too many Dementors. They're getting past my charm," Harry called out.

Both the young wizard and witch froze at his words. Of course, Hermione had managed to create a _patronus_ of her own, but she had never done it with a Dementor looming over her, waiting to prick at her worst memories and Ron had only contrived to create a silvery mist. But Harry had to have faith in them, until Lupin and Tonks could add their help.

He saw the hesitancy in both their eyes, the fear that they wouldn't be able to pull it off. He gave them a reassuring nod, gently splitting his attention from his magic to give them the encouragement needed. "Just remember what we did last year. You can do it."

Hermione's hand sought out Ron's and they clasped them together for reassurance and strength before each turning their own wands to the throng and crying the incantation. Harry's heart leapt with another joy as not only Hermione's otter leapt from her wand, but Ron's bear lumbered towards the Dementors. He fed the euphoria into his own _patronus_, his pride in his friends accomplishments.

The Dementors began to retreat and Harry felt his tension roll off of him as they exited the warehouse. Warmth again filled the abandoned building and Harry felt the chill escape his body along with the Dementors. As soon as he was sure that they were gone, he let go of the flow of his magic and the stag that he always wanted to remain afterwards evaporated.

Suddenly Ron and Hermione were at his side, each with a ecstatic expression on their face. "Did you see that, Harry?" Ron asked, pummeling his back with good humor. "I did it. It was bloody brilliant, mate." He hugged Harry and then he hugged Hermione, something he never did. The two blushed as he pulled away.

Harry couldn't help his grin. "You both did wonderful."

That's when Xander, Willow, Uncle Rupert, and two sluggish dark-haired women made their way to the wizards and witch's side. Uncle Rupert surveyed them all, getting a gauge of their health. "Are you all alright?" he asked worriedly, his question spoken more pointedly at Harry.

"We're okay," Harry assured him.

Lupin and Tonks joined them. "You know, I'm beginning to reconsider moving to Sunnydale, Rupert," Professor Lupin joked as he dabbed sweat away from his face with a handkerchief.

"I didn't know you were so adept with this sort of thing, Remus," Tonks admired. "Blasted Ministry."

"What about Buffy?" Harry asked and searched the room for the slim Slayer. He caught still facing against the preacher-like vampire who now held a sledgehammer in his hands.. The dark-skinned once-man, continued to threaten her, but Buffy paid him no mind.

"Are you going to kill me or just bore me to death?" she asked cocky, but still not as Harry had seen her that first time out Slaying.

Angel stood to the side, watching this with wise patience. After living over two hundred years, Harry guessed that this moment in time seemed incredibly fast to the vampire but to the wizard he wished Buffy would just kill him already. The vampire rushed her the sledgehammer high in the air. and Buffy held her ground, seemingly unmoved by the threat. When Harry was sure the vampire was upon her, she sidestepped and grabbed a candelabra that had been standing just as unassuming at her side, and pressed the flames into the vampires chest. The dark-skinned vampire was reduced to ash and the sledgehammer clattered to the ground.

For a moment Buffy looked shell-shocked, as though she'd suddenly been petrified and Harry moved to console her, but Uncle Rupert held him back. Buffy picked up the sledgehammer and walked over to the neatly laid out Master bones. He jolted, nearly leaping a meter in the air when she angrily pounded the hammer into the bones, crushing them into dust.

"What is she doing?" Willow whispered.

"Working out her issues," Xander guessed.

It was a horrible tableau, causing all around her to silence, even Cordelia and Ms. Calendar who undoubtedly had questions. Tears streamed down Buffy's face and Harry feared for a moment that the Dementors would return with just the tantalizing smell of her agony. It was a short lived fear as Angel finally moved from his place of patient observation and walked to her side, Buffy dropping the hammer and turning into his embrace.

Heart-wrenching sobs emitted from the tiny Slayer, as she burrowed into the ensouled vampire's chest.

"Are they?" Tonks asked, confused.

"Yes," Uncle Rupert and Professor Lupin answered together.

"But isn't he..." Tonks drew off.

Xander nodded disparagingly, while Willow answered, "Yeah," with a dreamy tone.

"I'll explain later," Professor Lupin said with a grin.

Harry couldn't help but feel sorry for the ironic couple, doomed from the first but each seeking comfort from the other. He had yet to find someone like that and by the way Ron and Hermione were looking at each other, they had just discovered it.

"Okay, what's going on here?" Cordelia asked, haughtily after a moment. "And do you have any idea how difficult it's going to be to get this blood out."

UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU

"Tonks and I will walk the kids home," Remus told Giles as the night activities began to calm down. "I don't think Buffy should have to deal with anything more this night."

Giles nodded, thankful that both Buffy and Harry had made it through this ordeal, relatively unscathed. "I would appreciate that, Remus. Are you sure you're feeling up to it?" The full moon was only a few days away and usually left Remus weak just before and just after.

"That would be the upside to Sunnydale, I don't feel nearly as drained as I have in the past," Remus answered. "This Hellmouth of yours is doing remarkable things for my health."

A chuckle escaped the Watcher but he soon sobered. "Ah, Remus, I wanted to ask you about that animal Harry conjured."

"It was a _patronus charm_, Rupert. The best way and to my knowledge the only way to repel a Dementor."

"It looked incredibly like James' animagus form," Giles continued, knowing that for some reason Remus was redirecting him from this conversation. And not caring to be diverted. "In fact I could have sworn it was James' animagus form."

Remus shook his head and swallowed hard. "Rupert, James is gone. I saw the body myself, unmarred, but motionless. Don't grasp an illusion."

"Right, yes, of course, you're right," Giles said, feeling slightly flustered and frustrated. "I'll make sure Jenny and Cordelia gets home if you get Willow, Xander, and Buffy back."

Remus studied him dubiously before nodding. Giles was relieved, not wanting to get in a philosophical discussion about the realities of magic and what he had hoped was a real if only slight manifestation of his brother. "I miss him too, Ripper, but you can't let yourself be fooled by magic. You know that as well as I do."

Giles nodded and brushed past Remus, heading towards his Slayer. She looked at him with a chagrined expression. He was glad that the smile that touched her lips wasn't as forced as it had been in the last few weeks and knew that the Buffy he'd become acquainted with was well on her way to appearing.

"How are you?"

"Aside from feeling like a complete jerk and utter idiot, I feel pretty good," Buffy said with a cheerful shrug. "I don't know how to begin to apologize."

"They understand," Giles assured her. "They're your friends."

"I meant to you," Buffy said, suddenly very serious. "What I said at your apartment earlier was uncalled for. I know I can be a selfish wench at times Giles, but I'm happy you have Harry in your life now. It makes this job a lot less awful when you have a family to go home to."

Giles smiled fatherly at her and knew that the feelings he was beginning to harbor towards his Slayer were not ones that Council would condone. A working relationship was all well and good, but he'd offered to trade his life for hers a few weeks ago and that was something a Watcher should never do.

"Remus and Tonks have offered to walk you and the others home," he informed gently.

Her reaction was a defensive one. "They don't have to. I can take care of them now Giles."

"Frankly, I've begun to suspect that Remus has become addicted to the thrill of this life. He assumes he'd meet another vampire following alongside you, then with me," Giles said in a droll tone.

"So will he be staying her when Harry goes back to school?" Buffy asked.

"I'm not sure. It would be nice to have someone around I can actually converse with," Giles jibbed softly.

A soft smile played on her features and it was the first time in a long time Giles remembered seeing her happy. "Thanks Giles."

"Take care," he replied. "And don't forget training tomorrow."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, I'll be there," Buffy answered flippantly, before joining her friends.

Giles turned to the three young wizards in his charge, Jenny, and Cordelia. "Let's leave shall we?"

Ms. Calendar instantly engaged him in conversation, demanding answers to what had just occurred in her typical straightforward fashion. Cordelia had found her way to Harry once again and Giles couldn't discern whether he was please or annoyed by her presence. He certainly wasn't like his father in that respect, James had been a rather roguish ladies man, taking after his older brother of course. While Ron and Hermione hung back, seeming suddenly uncomfortable in each other's presence.

It wasn't long before they had Jenny and Cordelia home safely and the foursome headed back to Giles' flat. Harry stood next to him, giving his friends a certain amount of space that Giles' didn't understand. He had a pensive look on his face and didn't speak much until they were almost at the flat.

"What about your car? You going to finally abandon it to the junkyard where it belongs?" Harry abruptly asked.

"No," Giles drew out the word wearily. "I'll retrieve it in the morning." Harry's face was overly pale in the moonlight and his stride was less then its youthful bounce. "You should eat when we get home. Those Dementors must have taxed you."

Harry shrugged affecting indifference. "It isn't too bad. I've gotten strangely accustomed to it all."

"We'll discover who they were meant for and who sent them," Giles tried to assure him, wondering if it was really the Dementors that troubled him.

"Uncle Rupert can I ask you a question?" Harry stuttered out.

Giles nodded emphatically. "Of co..."

With an abruptness of a sharp wind, Giles felt that he couldn't talk, that his breath had frozen in his lungs. He looked around wondering what could have possibly caused the sensation when he was suddenly hit by an onrush of dark memories, a replay of the dark ages of his life. His knees gave out and crashed to the pavement with a painful crack. As he fell forward, he caught himself on the palms of his hands. The gravel from the road, cutting into them, drawing blood. But it was nothing next to the pain inside his head. The frightened cries of Randall when they had not been able to exercise Eyghon from the young man.

Through the din of flashing pictures and mingled screams, Giles heard Harry shout out something and the cold dissipated along with the cacophony in his head. He slowly opened eyes that he hadn't realized he'd closed and was met with the visage of a silver stag, the one his brother had worked so hard to transform into.

"James?" he asked in a staccato voice. "Is it truly you?"

The stag or _patronus_, as Remus had called it, butted it's snout against Giles shoulder, urging him to his feet. The Watcher in him was surprised to find the magic corporal and he ran a hand along the long neck. Warm fur, meet the tips of his fingers and he remembered the first time he had ran his hand in a similar fashion when James had succeeded in his transformation. It had been Giles who had suggested a stag or hart as it was known in rural mysticism. And here was the mystical manifestation of his brother right in front of him.

"Do you recognize me? Or do you just obey Harry's whims?" Giles asked in a soft awed tone.

There was a reply, a low guttural sound that came from the throat and vibrated towards Giles, though the Watcher couldn't begin to decipher its meaning. The stag pranced on its articulated legs as though dutifully trying to relay the answer to Giles' questions. 'It's magic, Rupert, only magic,' he told himself as his hand suddenly went through the once solid form.

Harry ran up to him and knelt beside Giles. "They must be after you."

"Hm?" Giles asked, wishing that Harry had held onto the magic just a little bit longer. "Oh, yes, that would make sense. We best get in doors. They seem rather tenacious about getting to someone this night."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Peter Pettigrew watched as for the second time, Potter dispelled the Dementors from getting at Rupert Giles or himself. He shivered as he thought he would have to do this the hard way. Ripper would die along with his brother and Harry would be vulnerable to the Dark Lord's desires. Peter's nose twitched as he shrunk down and into the rat that he truly was, scurrying into the shadows of Sunnydale.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16: A Rat Out of Hiding

Remus Lupin walked alongside the Slayer in awkward silence. Since Xander and Willow lived north of Buffy, he and Tonks had split up the tiny group and had gone their opposite ways. The werewolf wizard was beginning to regret the separation. When the other two American teens had been with them, they had engaged Buffy in conversation, even Tonks had been able to get Buffy to open up to her by asking the Slayer which way she preferred her hair. Where Remus felt as though it was his first day at Hogwarts all over again, everyone talking joyfully to one another and he wandering around feeling a complete clod.

Strangely, it made him wish that Sirius and James were here.

Despite his previous words, he was fatigued from the long battle and the magic he'd displayed. He wondered how Buffy could bounce along the road with such vigor. Of course, a Slayer and a werewolf would differ in such an instance.

He remembered when Rupert had first told James, Sirius, Peter, and himself about the Slayer and what he would eventually do with the rest of his life. It had all sounded exciting to the Marauders, a huge adventure that they had wanted to be a part of. Rupert had adamantly refused to let them delve into his books and studies, saying that they obtained what they needed from school. Remus now wondered if the Potters hadn't had a hand in his refusal, but as a child he had daydreamed of being in Rupert's place.

How foolish the fancies of youth!

None of the Marauders had ever truly appreciated what Rupert Giles' life really turn out to be like. Remus had always looked up to Rupert as had James. It had been Rupert that had explained to Remus that there wasn't a need to worry about being a werewolf, that Rupert himself knew of two from his studies and they were particularly lovely ladies. It wasn't until after Rupert had entered University that he had become such a prick and started hanging out with Ethan Rayne.

Seeing the things he had in the last few weeks, Remus understood how the younger Rupert had wanted to pull away from all of it, to loose himself in the addiction of Wiccan magic. He could only imagine what it had been like when Rupert had first entered his studies at fourteen and the more intense courses once he'd started at Oxford.

"How long have you known Giles?" Buffy suddenly tore into his reverie.

He gave her a startled glance. "I was eleven when we met, you can guess at the years."

She nodded, smiling wisely. It was strange how her whole demeanor could change in a blink of an eye. "You were a friend of his brother?" she asked, but it sounded more like a statement.

"James was one of my best friends, yes," Remus answered carefully unsure of where this conversation was leading.

"That's why you came with Harry, because you were doing your duty to your friend. I get that, I really do, " Buffy said, as though she was working out a puzzle. "So I can count on that same loyalty transferring over to Giles."

Remus finally put together the puzzle Buffy had been working on. "I wouldn't betray Rupert or Harry. I assure you Buffy, I only have concern for their safety."

"Just checking. I know one of your other friends Iscarioted Harry's parents, I wanted to make sure that doesn't happen again," Buffy said in explanation. "Giles is my Watcher and nothing will happen to him."

Remus nodded, feeling a lump of disquiet fill him. He wasn't sure what it meant but it left him tingling with suspicion. "Rupert is one of the few links I have left to those I considered my family, as is Harry."

"Then I hope you stay in Sunnydale," Buffy concluded with a decisive jerk of her head. "Giles could use a life and it would keep him distracted from me pursuing mine."

"Is that your off handed way of saying that you want me to stay?" Lupin said with a guarded smile.

She shrugged and added brightly, "Just don't make me hurt you, because I will if I have to."

"I'll keep it in mind," Remus replied with his typical dry wit.

"This is my house," she said, pointing towards a quaint craftsman split level with a charming front porch. "You want to come in, rest before you head out for Giles'?"

Remus wanted nothing more then to take the weight of his feet, but he had second thoughts about it. What would Buffy's mother think about a strange man entering her house with her sixteen-year-old daughter? The last thing he needed was to be placed in jail for aiding in the delinquency of a minor. And that was the least of the offenses that popped into his mind.

"Won't your mother question my presence?" Remus asked.

"Nah, she's very good at turning the other blind eye," Buffy mixed her adages. "Come on, you look dead on your feet, and I know the look well. I may even get Mom to give you a lift back to Giles'."

"I don't want to intrude," Remus tried to back out. He was tired but he wanted to check on Rupert, Harry, Hermione, and Ron. The battle against not only the vampire population but the newly arrived Dementors would have been taxing for all three young wizards. And Rupert had been terribly thrown by the sight of James' animagus form produced by Harry's charm

But Buffy came around to step in front of him. "Look, you're tired. You get tired like this, you make mistakes. I don't want to get you killed."

He couldn't reject her reasoning, his mind felt full of cotton and it would be nice to get a cup of coffee in him before returning to Rupert's flat. If he planned on staying here in Sunnydale, he would have to find a job to pay for a flat of his own. Once that he could connect to the floo network and be able to get to England in the flash of a flame. Without Sirius, he felt he was unnecessary back at Grimmauld Place and Harry wouldn't need him for school. But he could do something for the Order even here.

So far the American Department of Magic had not committed themselves in the war against Voldemort, waiting to see if the Ministry could take handle the Dark Wizard on their own terms before America pledged their assistance. Considering the failed attempts of the two magical governments working in tandem in the pat, Remus could understand the hesitance. But perhaps he could bring the two together against Voldemort. Lightening the load Harry had to bear.

Buffy mounted the stairs with the exuberant amount of energy that all teenagers were prescribed with and threw the front door open. "Mom, I'm home," she cried.

Tentatively, Remus stepped over the threshold, his attention driven to the stairs as Mrs. Summers descended them. "Hey honey. Who's your guest?"

"This is Remus Lupin, he's a friend of Giles. We finished cataloging the library or what's left of it, but Giles' car broke down and Mr. Lupin offered to walk me home," Buffy said in a rush. "He brought Harry over from England. Lupin this is my mother Joyce Summers."

"It's very nice to meet you," Joyce greet with a dazzling smile, offering the werewolf her hand.

Gently, Remus accepted it. "It's a pleasure, Mrs. Summers."

"Oh, please call me Joyce," she offered with sincerity.

"Then you must call me, Remus," the werewolf replied.

Buffy looked at him and then at her mother with a curious expression on her face. "Mom, I thought you could give Lupin a ride over to Giles. It's been a long day and he's really tired."

"Hm, oh sure, honey. Can I offer you a cup of coffee or some tea before we head out, Remus?" Joyce offered as the gracious host.

Remus felt Buffy's eyes boring into the side of his head. As a werewolf he felt he needed to stay on the good side of the Slayer, but he found Joyce Summers incredibly captivating. Her soft smile, her wide eyes and long locks of blonde spirals seemed as though a memory of a dream. And he had suddenly found himself thinking in poetry.

He shook himself out of his stupor and nodded gratefully to Joyce. "Coffee would be wonderful."

"Great." She turned her attention to her flabbergasted daughter. "Buffy, you're father called, said he was going to be in town and wanted to know if you wanted to get in some pre-back-to-school shopping."

"I'll call him, thanks Mom," Buffy replied, the strain in her voice easily discerned by the werewolf's finely-tuned hearing.

Joyce's features arranged themselves into a look of concern. "You okay, honey. Are you sure you aren't still clinging to that flu you had a couple of weeks ago?"

Buffy gave her a cheerful smile, this time not as force and to Remus' surprise not the pathetic interpretation it had been the last couple of weeks. "I'm one hundred and ten percent. Just all that hundred and ten percent needs a long snooze. I think Giles' books sucked all the energy out of me."

"You should go on up to bed then. I'll make sure Remus gets home safely," Joyce told her daughter, running a loving hand down her daughter's cheek.

If Buffy had been planning to object to this, it was thwarted by her mother's gentle manner. "Goodnight Mom, Lupin."

"Night honey," Joyce said, as Buffy mounted the stairs she'd just descended.

"Goodnight Buffy," Remus said, earning a pointed glare for his efforts.

Joyce must have missed. "Now how about that coffee?"

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

_James Edward Potter stood in front of a long crystalline mirror, his dress robes flowing off his lanky body as he tried to flatten his recalcitrant hair. There was a nervousness about the twenty-one year old wizard as he prepared himself before the mirror, his green/brown eyes darting around the room and looking heaven ward as though in silent prayer. His nervousness could be forgiven, even if it were a rare event that James Potter ever became nervous. And today was such a rare event._

_Today, James was to marry Lily Evans, the most beautiful, kind and caring woman he had ever known. It both seemed impossible and incredibly real at the same time. _

_He dipped the comb in a basin of water for the umpteenth time and ran it through the mop of unruly black hair. "Bloody hair," he cursed as the hair got entangled into the teeth of the comb._

_"Lighten up, James. Everyone knows what you look like," Sirius said behind him. _

_As his best man, Sirius Black was dressed elegantly in deep crimson robes, matching the color that Lily had chosen for the wedding. He looked more the part of the groom then James did, with his handsome features and suave demeanor. His hair certainly didn't stand up on end as though he'd been electrocuted!_

_"Oh, you're one to talk," James teased back, still pulling at the comb. "Look at you. Tell me it didn't take a charm to keep your robes from wrinkling."_

_"That's the happiness of being incredibly rich Prongs my boy. You can get the finest charm cleaning in the wizarding world. You can throw flames at me and these lovelies wouldn't be singed."_

_James rolled his eyes in grand exaggeration and gave a small cry as he yanked the comb from his tangled hair. "Are Remus and Peter in place."_

_"I'll go check if it will calm you down?" Sirius asked, sounding very put out._

_"I'd appreciate it, Padfoot. I just want everything to go perfectly. Lily deserves perfect," James said, straightening his disheveled robes._

_Sirius chuckled. "Then why is she marrying you?"_

_"Oh get out before I hex you to next Sunday," James threatened half-heartedly._

_"You wouldn't dare," Sirius countered lightly. "Who would be your best man?"_

_"I'd pull Remus from usher duty," James was quick to answer._

_Sirius put a dramatic hand to his heart. "I'm wounded. How quickly you replace me, Prongs."_

_"Just remember you're expendable," James quipped cheerfully._

_Sirius opened the door from out of the grooms room and into the church. "I'll be back in a moment, hopefully with a tranquilizing potion."_

_"Mate you are both witty and the best of friends but get out before I do something you'll regret." James heard him chuckle all the way down the hall and into the chapel. _

_Turning back to the mirror, James continued his scrutiny of his appearance. His white shirt was expertly pressed and his collar was folded neatly over that of his robes. Red strips in the deep hue that Lily had selected ran down the side of his trousers, accenting his long legs. If only he could get his hair to cooperate. He dipped his fingers into the basin and began piecing through the veritable rats nest._

_The door opened and he addressed Sirius without turning around. "That was quick Padfoot. What did you do, fly through the corridors?"_

_"It's not Sirius, James," an impossible voice said._

_James spun around so fast that the tail of robes flapped into the mirror. He gaped at the figure standing just in front of the closed door. The man was tall, with dark brown hair, and the same brown/green eyes as James. He was clad in a tweed suite that was a far cry from the jeans and t-shirts that James remembered from his youth. A half smiled graced the grown features of his brother._

_"Rupert," James stuttered, his brain unable to come to terms with what his eyes had registered. He hadn't seen Rupert in six years, thinking that his brother had been lost to the dark magic he'd used. "Wh...what are you doing here?"_

_"It's considered bad taste to miss a family member's wedding," Rupert said, the way he spoke even different from the belligerent tone he'd once used . "And I have a gift for you." He held out an envelop to James and the wizard grasped it numbly._

_He starred at the brother he'd thought lost and fought for what to do next. "You look different," he observed._

_"I am different," Rupert said softly. "I can't stay long, but I wanted to see you" His laughter was light, as he eyed James. "You've grown so much, I wouldn't have recognized you."_

_James felt cheated that Rupert would be staying and angry that he'd come at all. "I'm not fifteen any more, Rupert. Have you seen Mum and Dad?"_

_"No!" Rupert snapped, his voice rising for the first time. "I mean, I'm not quite ready for that. They don't know I'm here. And I'd like it to stay that way."_

_James snorted. "Well, funnily enough this isn't about what you want, Rupert. Do you have any idea how worried they've been about you. Dad's had a few Aurors looking out for you and Mum was in tears for weeks after you left, but apparently that doesn't phase you."_

_"I know about the Aurors and I'm sorry about Mum," Rupert said soothingly, his voice husky with emotion. "I wanted to come home."_

_"Then why didn't you?" James accused. There was so much hurt and anger brimming inside of him that it threatened to overwhelm him. This was his wedding day he was supposed to be giddy with anticipation as he had been moments ago, not rehashing old wounds. _

_Rupert removed his glasses and pulled out a handkerchief to polish them. It was the first time James had noticed them, Rupert had always refused to wear glasses in the past. "I needed time. When Ethan and I departed ways I was still very strung out on the magic. It took nearly a year for me to get to the point where my blood didn't scream for it."_

_This gave James pause, his anger dousing to bitter embers. "You left Ethan?"_

_Rupert nodded replacing his glasses on his strong face. "I did a couple months after I left home. It's a long complicated story but I eventually realized my folly."_

_"Where have you been, Rupert? That was years ago. Why come now?" James felt the words pass through his throat like sandpaper. And when did Rupert start using words like 'folly'?_

_"I've been studying, James. I'm a Watcher now. I expect I'll be assigned a potential in the near future," Rupert surprised him a second time._

_"A Watcher? But I thought you hated it?" The wizards head was turning with all this new information. _

_A certain haunted expression past through Rupert's eyes. "Part of me still does, but it's my destiny James. Just as it's yours to be a wizard. I can't walk away from it, I tried and I failed." He studied his feet for a moment before returning his gaze to James. "This world is in danger and I want to be part of those that protect it. I need to be."_

_"At least let them know you're safe," James tried again, knowing how stubborn Rupert could be. Except as he gazed at his brother, his quiet demeanor and that haunted look in his eyes, James realized that this wasn't the brother he knew. This was a man both hardened and softened by experience. "Dad blames himself for you leaving."_

_"I will," Rupert assured him. "But this is your day, James. I won't intrude upon it. _

_Then James did something that startled the both of them. He flung himself at his brother, wrapping his arms tightly around the stockier frame, filling the muscles that lay under it. Rupert clapped his own around his brother, pounding his back. _

_"Please don't go again," James whispered._

_Rupert pulled back, uncomfortable with the show of emotion. "I have to."_

_" James...." That was when the door flung open and Sirius bounded in with good-nature until he saw that James was not alone. A low growl emitted from him as he glared at Rupert. "What is he doing here?"_

_"It's also a pleasure to see you again, Sirius," Rupert replied with a touch of his past asperity._

_"Get out," Sirius growled. "You aren't welcomed here."_

_A feral grin spread over Rupert's face. "Do you fancy you can make me leave, Black?"_

_Before Sirius could pull out his wand, James stepped between the two. The stranger that was his brother and the friend who was just as good as a brother. "He was just leaving, Sirius. It's alright."_

_His friend's dark eyes burrowed into Rupert and if looks could curse, Rupert would have been defenseless. "Are you sure about this, James?"_

_James nodded, watching as Rupert headed for the door. "Remember what I told you James," he said and he exited as suddenly as he had come. _

_"The nerve of that prat, coming here after everything he put your family through," Sirius raved. "You should have let me take care of him."_

_James didn't pay attention to Sirius' rants. He had heard them in his head the whole time that Rupert was here, but there was a tinier voice, one that had stayed with him for six years that was crying joyfully to know that his brother was not dead. That he'd left the dark magic behind and was now fighting that darkness._

_Abruptly, he remembered the envelope as the weight in his hands. He opened it up and found a few galleons inside, apparently Rupert no longer worried about his place in the magically world. There was also a letter , written in tiny, precise script. He pulled it out and opened it and saw that it was on Watcher Council letterhead with Rupert's name etched at the top._

_Dear James,_

_I hope one day you and our parents might be able to forgive the pain I put you through. I won't make excuses for my behavior because there are none. In time I hope that you can come to think of me as not only your brother by blood but as a part of your family. _

_We both know that magic in this world is dangerous, whether it come by wand or other means. If you ever find yourself in that type of danger you can reach me at the address on this letterhead. Or the Council can direct you to where I'll be. _

_While I'm writing this, I've just seen you and Lily pass by and I must say you've done well for yourself, though we've never had the same taste in women. Maybe one day you'll tell her about me. Or maybe we'll meet one day. Again that's all contingent upon what you desire. _

_I won't force my way back into your life, James. There was a trust broke between us and I know that the fault lies on me. Take care of yourself, James._

_Your Brother,_

_Rupert Jayson Giles_

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

Harry couldn't sleep. For once it wasn't because the oppressing heat nor the fact that Ron was snoring loudly at his side. He could hear Uncle Rupert wondering around the flat, pouring through his books. Professor Lupin hadn't returned yet from walking Buffy and the others home and Hermione had fallen asleep in the guest room. Lupin would be taking the hide-away bed once again.

What was keeping him up was the memory of seeing his uncle, down on all fours, gazing fondly upon the stag patronus that Harry had been told was the spitting image of his father's animagus form. There had been so much pain and longing, making the truth of his uncle's previous loneliness abruptly painful.

He didn't want to return to Hogwarts in two weeks. He felt foolish because he knew that Buffy, Xander, and Willow would all be there to keep him company, but he wanted to be the one that was there in his uncle's life. And wanted Rupert to be in his own.

At his side, Ron snorted with extra fervor and rolled further away towards the edge of the bed. With a frustrated sigh, Harry tore the covers from him and levered himself out of the bed. Thankfully, Ron didn't stir. He padded his way out of his room and into the living room, grateful for the coolness against his bare legs. He had started wearing shorts and a t-shirt to bed, his usual pajamas just too warm for the Sunnydale climate.

He found Uncle Rupert in the kitchen, a carafe of scotch in front of him with a glass already poured. There were books all in front of him and softly in the background, Harry could hear music playing, something with a lot of guitar. Harry thought it sounded familiar, that possibly Uncle Vernon had played it on those rare occasions he allowed Aunt Petunia's favorites. It had a haunting, lilting quality that he enjoyed. One of the few things he'd ever found he had in common with his mother's sister.

Uncle Rupert looked up, somehow instantly recognizing his presence. "Can't sleep?" he asked gently. "I could fix you some tea if you'd like?"

"No, that's alright, Uncle Rupert. I'd rather have hot chocolate," he said, coming further into the kitchen.

"There aren't any residual effects from the Dementors, are there?" his uncle asked concerned.

Harry shrugged. "No, it's not that. Just can't seem to quiet my mind."

"It's been a busy day," Uncle Rupert agreed business like as though he ran a shop and they'd just had a tough sale.

Harry ran water into a kettle and placed it on the stove. "What are you doing still up? The Dementors were circling around you. You should get some sleep too."

Uncle Rupert picked up his glass of scotch and knocked it back. "Research," he answered. "Need to find a way to keep Voldemort away from you. I have to keep the bastard from taking the last family I have left." Harry realized that his previous softness had been used to mask the slur in his speech.

"But the spell?" Harry said, his hand waving vaguely in the vicinity of his forehead. They had performed the ritual of Filla two nights ago, before Voldemort could break through it. The older the spell the weaker it became.

"It won't last forever, we both know that," Uncle Rupert said, sloshing more scotch into his cup. "And you'll be returning to school."

The kettle whistled then, saving Harry from an answer. He pulled his chocolate from the cupboard and a mug to mix it in. He saw down at the table, stirring the hot chocolate absently. "Let me help, Uncle Rupert."

"Help?" the Watcher asked sharply. "I'm supposed to help you, Harry. I didn't help James and now he's dead. I should have stayed, should have been there."

Harry shook his head. "There was nothing that you could have done, Uncle Rupert. Voldemort...if he wants to kill someone, he can't be stopped. And if you had been there, I would be alone right now."

"I never knew," Uncle Rupert muttered deceptively calm now. "Never knew."

Uncle Rupert's grief was keen, Harry could feel it mingle with his own. For Rupert Giles it was better to think that James had wanted nothing to do with him then to think that his brother had been ruthlessly murdered. Harry swallowed down his own grief at what might have been if his parents had lived, and focused on the grief of his uncle who had to come to terms with his brother's death just as quickly and mercilessly as Harry had himself.

"Didn't know what?" he asked gently, trying pull his uncle's fingers for the most recent book.

"If they could have forgiven me. I was so wrong, Harry. So wrong," the Watcher said, shaking his head, the glass of scotch forgotten in his hands. "I wanted to show them." He giggled derisively. "That I wasn't useless, that I could fight against the darkness as I was meant to. But I was afraid."

"Uncle Rupert don't torture yourself with this," Harry started to condone "I'm sure my dad would have forgiven you. He would have needed you like I do."

A drunken smile spread over his uncle's features, wide and slack-jawed. The doorbell rang then and Uncle Rupert turned to face it. "Must be, Remus. Forgotten his key."

He stood up then weak-knee and wobbly and made a jagged line to the door. Harry watched him with a sense of relief. Professor Lupin would know what to do, where Harry was quite lost with Uncle Rupert's sudden sense of loss. He barely knew how to work out his own and he'd never known James Potter or Lily Evans, not as family.

"Remus you can just wal..." Uncle Rupert's words drew off as Harry caught the sight of a wand poking past the door.

Harry leapt from his seat, pulling for his own wand as he saw the barrier of the other. It was a face that had killed before, was responsible for the wrongful imprisonment of his godfather, and the death of his parents. And now had the wand pointed at the only family Harry had ever known.

"Peter Pettigrew."


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17: Revelations

There are times in a man's life when instinct overrides all other senses and he moves with agility and speed. For Giles, this was not one of those times. He stared dumbly at the wand that threatened him with a cross-eyed, vagrant expression. It was several moments before his clouded hazel eyes traveled up the length of the wand and saw who the man who threatened him.

Giles had seen a number of ugly and cretinous beings, but none had ever struck with a sense of loathing and utter desire to wreck violence then the man standing before him. He was shorter then Giles, by nearly a full head, with a round ruddy face and mousy grey-brown hair. His eyes were dark and tiny, giving them a beady look in the full face. His mouth was drawn and appeared to be formed in a perpetual snivel, and his tiny nose flared as though he tasted the air for something no other could discern.

A sniveling smile was now on his face as he regarded Giles and it was all the Watcher could do to keep himself from launching at his brother's betrayer. "Oh, Ripper, how long has it been?"

"Too long you rats a...," Giles trailed off as the tip of Pettigrew's wand dug deeply into his throat. The anger mildly cleared the effects of the alcohol from his mind.

"Pettigrew," Harry ground out, leveling his wand at the older wizard.

"I wouldn't use that if I were you, Harry. Unless you want to see another family member destroyed by a killing curse," Pettigrew warned, his tone high-pitched and shaking. "This doesn't have to end with a death."

Giles hazel eyes were burning clear by the moment, adrenalin overriding the scotch in his blood. "What do you want?"

"It's what my Lord wants," Pettigrew answered and turned his empty gaze towards Harry.

Harry didn't notice the implication he was too infused with anger, his hands were clutched at his side the knuckles nearly white and his green eyes looking as though they could kill. That sort of unmitigated hatred acted upon could get his nephew killed, Giles would have to resolve this situation quickly. If only he could get his mind working on a plan. A small voice, one that hadn't yet been brought to stupor by alcohol yelled at him to stall.

The Watcher shook his head and regretted the wave of vertigo that sloshed over him. "Harry's not going anywhere. You aren't taking him and Voldemort won't have him."

"It's a little late to be playing the hero now, Rupert," Pettigrew hissed. "Either I kill you and the boy comes with me or he saves your life and comes with me willingly."

The Watcher was well aware that Harry would most likely opt for the latter rather than the former and it instilled Giles with fear. He managed to lock eyes with his irascible nephew, with Pettigrew's wand still drilling into the skin under his chin. "Harry when he kills me incapacitate him as quickly as you can."

"No, I'm not going to let him take another life. Not after everything he's done," his nephew said with a rebellious air.

"Do as I tell you," Giles snapped, his voice raised in frightened anger. This wasn't just a vampire or a demon, something he knew how to deal with, this was a wizard who had been responsible for the death of his brother and sister-in-law. He turned his raging gaze to Peter. "Kill me!"

"I'll go with you," Harry shouted. "Just don't kill him."

The young wizard started forward. But Pettigrew stopped him with a warning. "Drop your wand, Potter. I don't want any surprises."

"I know how difficult this must be, Harry, but if you drop that wand and go with him, you'll be sealing the fate of thousands of wizards and Muggles," Giles said, filling his mind getting a little clearer. "You can't allow your emotions to guide you in this instance. A life must be given to save thousands more."

Pettigrew's expression changed to one of reproach as he gazed at Giles. "You know all about that don't you, Ripper."

Giles heart skipped a beat as he deciphered Pettigrew's meaning. Randall, the sacrificial lamb to destroy Eyghon, they had been forced to end his life when the demon could not be exercised. It was the defining event that had cause Rupert to leave black magic behind and return to his study as a Watcher. It had shown him the dangers of the mystical world in a different manner then the Council.

It had been a part of his haunted past he had only touched upon with Harry, he had wanted to wait until he and Harry had become better acquainted to go further into the past. Now Pettigrew was going to bring it out in the ugliest of lights.

"It was a difficult lesson," Giles murmured, wondering how in the heavens Peter had learned of this part of his past. Not even Remus knew all of it. "One he will have to learn if he is to defeat Voldemort."

"What is he talking about?" Harry said, running an agitated hand through his messed hair, a gesture that was so purely James.

Giles tried to work moisture into a suddenly dried mouth. "I killed a man," he gritted out between teeth clenched so tightly that for a moment he was sure he would shatter them. It was better to hear from him then from Pettigrew.

The wand nearly slipped from Harry's fingers as he paled at this news. "Yo...you what?"

"I killed a man. We had summoned a demon's essence to provide us with a magical high, when it came time for that essence to retreat, he clung to a friend of mine named Randall," Giles said in a flat tone afraid that if he didn't his self-loathing from that night would overwhelm him. "The demon, Eyghon, was planning on using Randall as his host. He had sustained himself in the body well enough to maintain his purchase on this plane. If I hadn't stopped him, he would have destroyed countless other lives. I had no choice."

Harry turned desolate eyes on him. "You're no better then he is," he accused, waving his wand vaguely at Pettigrew. "You murdered someone to save your own life."

"Drop your wand Potter," Pettigrew ordered, his wand now shaking against Giles' neck.

A range of conflicting emotions warred on Harry's face. _I should have told him before this,_ Giles thought weakly. There was no way to reverse time and change all that had happened in his youth, but he suddenly wished there was.

"I think you just lost your leverage, Pettigrew," Giles hissed, wanting to extract his vengeance on the rotund body.

"Shut up, both of you," Harry snapped, his wand shaking at Pettigrew. "He's right, I can't let you kill any more innocence." He used his freehand to wipe at his sweaty brow.

"Harry no!" Giles cried, the fog of alcohol not able to block out the importance of the shared blood on Harry's forehead.

But it was too late, the blood and the seal of magic had been broken, leaving Harry vulnerable to Voldemort's mind manipulation. Voldemort must have been waiting for it and Harry let out a high-pitched scream. It was then that instinct overrode Giles' scotch-induced lethargy and he moved as fast as any human could. With his left hand, he deflected Pettigrew's wand to the ground and used his right to punch the rat in his wretched face.

Pettigrew didn't have a chance. He pitched over as though he were a limbless dummy, falling to the floor in a heap of matted and dirty robes. Giles was torn, rooted in place, as he tried to decide what next to do. Under normal circumstances he was decisive, but his mind was muddled, making his reaction time delayed. If he didn't resume the spell, Harry would be vulnerable to the dark wizard, but if he didn't take care of Pettigrew they would both be vulnerable to his wand.

"Good show, Giles," he muttered, as Pettigrew scurried to his feet.

The traitorous wizard brandished his wand at Giles and cursed, "Ava..."

"_Petrificus Totalus." _ a feminine voice roared and Peter stiffened and tumbled back to the ground. Giles whirled towards the origin the spell had come from and saw a sleep disheveled Hermione with her wand steadily pointed at the frozen Peter.

"How long does the spell last?" Giles asked, running to Harry's side.

"Until I or someone else releases him," Hermione answered.

Giles veered just short of Harry and turned to his weapons trunk, throwing the lid off the top and pulling out one of the ornate throwing knives. His palms weren't likely to provide the blood he would need for the spell and he ran the blade of his forearm before settling next to Harry's spasming form. His scar had already cracked open and was oozing a fair amount of red blood.

"There's a length of rope inside the weapons trunk, get Ron and tie the rat up," Giles ordered, pressing his forearm to Harry's forehead. With a shuddering breath he felt the cold presence of Voldemort.

"You cannot protect him forever, Watcher," Harry's mouth moved, but it wasn't his settling voice that echoed out into the apartment.

Giles mouth twisted into an angry sneer. "You won't have him. You won't destroy him, not like James. There are more terrible things in this world than you and I will not cower."

"The last speech before the end," Voldemort laughed through Harry, a pop hissing sound. "He hates what you are, what you did. How will you protect someone who despises you."

"Like this," Giles ground out, before he closed his eyes and placed his blood soaked hand on Harry's bleeding forehead. He began a different chant then the one he originally planned. "Thine enemy is mine enemy. Let flesh and breath, heart and blood be one." The spell began to burn the alcohol from his blood and cleared his clouded mind, making it easier to concentrate. "And thine affliction become mine. The conduit and the home. Through flesh and bone. In me let thy enemy reside."

Against the dark wizards will his mind flew through Harry's and into Giles' knocking him to the ground. He felt Voldemort try to take control of his body but the spell would not allow it. Giles felt his limbs gone numb and limp as his body shut down to hold the dark wizard.

With trembling fingers Harry pressed the digits that would connect him to the Summers' residence, watching with a strange numb detachment as his uncle's chest rose up and down shallowly. Ron and Hermione were binding Peter's arms and legs, even though he'd been petrified by Hermione's spell. It didn't seem very prudent, even if they decided to release the enchantment, he could just morph into a rat and make his escape that way.

The phone rang and the sound might as well have been made by a gong the way it echoed inside Harry's strained mind, filling up the empty spaces. It made his already queasy stomach want to empty its contents and he clutched the phone receiver until his knuckles stood out against the green color. Was Buffy already in bed or had she gone out on patrol? Where was Professor Lupin? Perhaps he should have called Xander or Willow or even Angel. He knew Uncle Rupert had the vampire's phone number hidden somewhere.

Just as he was about to despair and hang up the phone, a cheerful voice answered, "Summers' residence."

"Mrs. Summers is Buffy home?" Harry asked, hoping that his voice didn't sound as tremulous as the rest of him.

"Harry is that you? She went to bed about an hour ago," Mrs. Summers answered, her voice lowering in concern. "Is everything alright?"

"Well.." he drew out the word, racking his brain for some excuse that would allow Buffy to come over to her librarian's flat without giving too much away to her mother. He knew that Joyce Summers was still unaware of her daughters late night activities.

He was saved an answer by a deep male voice that he heard only as a grumbling background. "Harry," Professor Lupin's voice came over the receiver suddenly, asking sharply. "Are you alright?"

"Its Uncle Rupert," Harry stuttered out, feeling tears prick his eyes. He was so confused. His uncle had just saved his life, but he also just discovered that Rupert Giles had a blackened past. He wasn't the man he appeared to be. _How could he have not told me?_

"You and Rupert made it home safe?" Lupin asked in a casual tone and Harry envied his ability to push aside the truth.

"We did but I couldn't sleep, so I went to fix a cup of hot chocolate," Harry was rambling now, but he didn't care. He sniffed down tears before continuing. "Uncle Rupert was researching and the door rang. It was Pettigrew, Remus. He came here to kill Uncle Rupert or to take me to Voldemort."

"No don't wait up for me," Lupin said and Harry wasn't sure how to decipher this part of the conversation. "I should be home in a few minutes." He added in a far away voice, addressing Mrs. Summers. "If that's alright with you Joyce?"

Harry coughed out a breath that mysteriously sounded close to a sob. "He won't wake up." Just inside his perception Ron and Hermione were watching him with open worry.

"Is the rat still in the house?" Remus asked in soothing tone, but Harry could hear the edge of malice to it.

Nodding, even though Lupin couldn't see him, Harry answered, "Hermione petrified him. They've got him tied up."

"Tell Rupert that I'll be home soon," the werewolf said. "And look to the dust bin beside the fireplace to dispose of the rat."

"You want me to contact Dumbledore?" Harry asked his mind not sure if he was making conclusions that he wanted or if it was truly what Remus wanted. Dumbledore certainly had more experience then anyone here in Sunnydale.

"Yes, Harry, very good. I'll be right there," Remus affirmed in his casual speech.

Harry felt a small amount of relief with Lupin heading his way back. "Hurry," he whispered.

"I will," the werewolf added before hanging up.

Still dazed, Harry placed the receiver back in its cradled. His eyes couldn't quite leave Uncle Rupert's prone body. There was still blood on his uncle's right arm and his hazel eyes were open, staring without seeing the ceiling above him. Harry knew that he had blood on his own eyebrows and down the bridge of his nose and that he should probably get cleaned up. It was a strange thought, for Harry had never cared for such things before.

"What did Professor Lupin say?" Hermione asked, coming between Harry and his direct sight on Uncle Rupert.

"We need to get Dumbledore," Harry offered. "He said we should look to the dustbin next to the fireplace."

Ron and Hermione exchanged a questioning look. Each were dressed in pajamas with hair and clothing rumpled from sleep. It was lucky that Hermione's room, the guest bedroom, had been closer to the living area or Uncle Rupert may have been dead already. Not that he was much better now.

It was his redheaded friend that stepped forward. "Why don't you let us do that, Mate. You look right off your feet."

The two didn't wait for him to answer but leaped over Pettigrew , Hermione returning to the guest room and Ron to the room he had shared been sharing with Harry. They returned quickly and knelt before the fire. But Harry didn't watch them to closely, Uncle Rupert's quiet form had once again snagged his attention.

He walked slowly next to him, before lowering to his knees. Those hazel eyes which had always showed an amount of love for Harry whether commanding or gentle, were now empty and lifeless. The young wizard would have feared him lost if it weren't for the steady, shallow breaths that caused Uncle Rupert's chest to rise.

He wanted to close those eyes, to run his hand over them and shut the lids gently so he wouldn't have to see those same eyes so listless. Morbidly, his hands moved of their own accord and the thumbs slide the thin curtains of skin down over those eyes. This was better. He was just sleeping now, not on the cusp of death.

"I don't understand you," Harry whispered, not sure if the man next to him could hear him or not. "I don't understand any of this."

There was no reply, no comforting words, just a pregnant silence between Harry and his uncle and the buzzing sound of Ron and Hermione talking with Professor Dumbledore. It was like Sirius all over again. Someone who loved and cared for him had thrown himself over the ticking bomb, giving Harry a little more time before the next one came, time to stop Voldemort. Except Harry didn't know how exactly he could stop the dark wizard. A boy against a man who by rights should have died long ago.

Anger and hatred seethed through him, companions he had not felt in the weeks he'd lived with Uncle Rupert, Voldemort and Pettigrew had stolen the contentment from him. Something that not even the Dementors had been able to do.

He longed for a guiding hand and the ten minutes it took Remus to show up at the door were inexorable, lasting for what seemed eternities. Hermione and Ron approached it cautiously with their wands out in a characterization of cops about to make a bust on the latest drug lords. Ron nodded for Hermione to open the door and she flung it open wide. Each of their wands jutting out at Lupin as though they were the business ends of pistols.

The werewolf gave them a dubious look before tossing hand in farewell, then quickly moved in doors. "Who did you expect it to be?"

Hermione and Ron gave him chagrined shrugs. "This place is crazier then Professor Lockhart," Ron offered the excuse lamely.

Lupin gave them a quick grin before turning to Harry and Uncle Rupert. His eyes only briefly scanned over Pettigrew, giving a distasteful snort towards the man. Professor Lupin hunched down next to him and his eyes settled on the blood on the Watcher's forearm. "Tell me what happened?"

Harry did, he explained Uncle Rupert's drunken self-loathing, the sudden arrival of Pettigrew and the rat's revelation, Harry's own harsh words to the man who had probably just given his life for Harry's, and then his stupid mistake in breaking the spell that held Voldemort at bay.

Lupin accepted it with a bent ear, nodding when he felt Harry needed encouragement and just waiting patiently when Harry paused. When he finished, the werewolf shook his head. "But the blood spell never affected him like this."

"The spell was different," Ron muttered. "I only heard part of the one he used before, when Voldemort first tried to take over his mind, but the words were different in this one."

Harry nodded. "It just didn't throw Voldemort out of my mind. Uncle Rupert took him out and he's in there now." Green eyes flicked to the man behind him. "Shouldn't we move him from the floor?"

"Let's wait until Dumbledore arrives," Lupin suggested. "I'm not an expert on ritualistic magic and I'm not sure if it's location derived or not. Better not to move him before we're sure."

"Professor Dumbledore studied Wiccan magic?" Harry asked, his mind somehow coalesced around that one thought. If Dumbledore knew the type of magic that Uncle Rupert had used on Voldemort than the aged wizard could get rid of the dark wizard before he did any harm to the Watcher.

Absently, Lupin nodded. "Not aggressively, but he knows the basic theories of how it works. In fact it is a much harder discipline then our own, because the magic doesn't originally dwell in the person who uses it. There concentration must be acute." He grasped Harry by the shoulder's and raked his pale gaze over the boy's trembling body. "Are you sure you're alright?"

"I'm not the one with Voldemort inside of him right now," Harry said drained.

"What do we do now?" Ron asked.

Rising, Lupin breathed a heavy sigh. "We wait."

"What did you tell Buffy?" Harry asked, his mind turning to the blonde girl who had so recently avoided a tragedy of her own.

"We'll have to inform her in the morning," Lupin answered off-handedly.

"She doesn't know?" Hermione asked tentatively.

Lupin shook his head in the negative. "I couldn't very well ask her mum to wake her because her Watcher had been attacked by a dark wizard now could I?"

Harry's attention wavered back to his prone uncle, mainly to the clean left hand where a black ring adorned the Watcher's pinky finger. He only realized now that Uncle Rupert had never been without it and belatedly wondered what it meant.

"This is all my fault," he muttered, feeling the weight of so many deaths weighing on his shoulders. "I can't just wait. There must be something I can do. Put Voldemort back where he belongs."

"He doesn't belong in your mind, Harry," Hermione countered softly.

"Well, he bloody well doesn't belong in his," Harry snapped.

The others, the werewolf and his best friends, paused at Harry's outburst. Tears were brimming in Hermione's eyes, Ron was struggling with whether he should he angry at Harry for snapping at them or sorry for him for nearly losing another part of his family, where Lupin remained concerned and withdrawn. They all stood there, silently watching each other, unsure of how to break the hush.

"Rupert must have known what he was doing," Remus finally said into the pause. "There's a plan in his actions. He wouldn't have left you without a reason, wouldn't have left Buffy. We have to remain calm until we figure out what that is."

Harry was about to reply to this but was cut off by the sound of a contracting air. In the next moment, Professor Dumbledore stood in the middle of living room, between Pettigrew and Uncle Rupert. "Perhaps I can be of some help with that."

"Where is he?" Buffy asked the next morning as she came bursting into the flat without knocking. Ron and Hermione were sitting at the sofa, looking over a number of Giles' books, while Lupin sipped at a cup of coffee.

It was Lupin who answered her coming out of the kitchen to meet her. "We moved him into his bedroom. Harry wanted to make sure he was comfortable."

Spinning on her heal, her blond hair whipping behind her, she headed to Giles room. To be a Slayer was to expect and understand death, she had seen plenty of dead bodies, people who had been the latest entre for a vampire or the lamb for a ritual. It was always easier to be detached from those deaths, though they continued to fuel her forward, but it was the ones that she was closest to, like friends and her first Watcher, that gave her the hardest time.

When Merrick had died she had felt she was cut out for the whole Slayer gig, who was she kidding, she didn't feel like this was her destiny by right. She was supposed to be doing the teenage thing; going to school, parties, the sort of things they made teen movies out of. But his death had rocked her to her core. He hadn't been like Giles, he'd been more harsh and straightforward, not given to understand or care for her plights. Yet he'd made the scary world he'd pushed her into seem surmountable.

He'd told her of the girls that had come before her, their strength and fearlessness. Those girls had inspired her, until Merrick had died. She'd had to pull something from inside of her to face Lothos again, the same unidentified quality that had caused her to face the Master knowing she would die. But after destroying the gym and her parents divorce moving her and her mother to Sunnydale, she had thought herself escaped from that life.

How much she had wanted to hate Giles when he had dropped that book on Vampires in front of her, both literally and figuratively. But he had surprised her. She had expected another Merrick, cold, calculating, doing whatever it took to destroy the creatures of the night. She hadn't expected to find a man who understood her heartache as personally as she did. He hadn't wanted to be a Watcher, he had been set on being something much more mundane, until his father had sat him down and explained the truth.

Giles, along with Xander and Willow, had become her comfort, her reason to slay.

So when she walked into his room, seeing him so pale and withdrawn she froze at the threshold afraid to step in any further. Harry was sitting on the bed next to him, dark bruises marring the skin under his eyes, telling of his sleeplessness. There was also the aged wizard, the Merlin wanna-be that she had found so amusing during their meeting. He watched Harry and Giles closely, those eyes that had barely concealed twinkling amusement weeks ago were now clouded with thought and concern.

With a mental shiver, she stilled herself and came further into the room. "How is he?"

Both Harry and Dumbledore turned to face her. "He's in a catatonic state, Ms. Summers," Dumbledore answered. "But perfectly fine."

"We don't know that," Harry argued softly. "With Voldemort inside of him, we don't know what could be happening."

"Harry...," Dumbledore started but Buffy cut him off.

"Who did this?"

Harry turned from Giles and faced her. "He did. I accidently broke the spell and Voldemort attacked, Uncle Rupert performed a different spell. It took Voldemort from my mind and put him in Uncle Rupert's."

"Then we just gotta find the spell and reverse it," Buffy said, feeling that this was all too obvious and there had to be a glitch in the system.

"It's not that simple," Dumbledore proved her feeling. "As soon as Voldemort is release from Mr. Giles, he will once again try to gain control of Harry. Mr. Giles will need time to recuperate and would not be able to perform the magic he'd used to seal Harry and Voldemort apart."

"Then we find another spell," Buffy said each word with a measure of determination. "Something that Giles might have already found, he's been working a lot on that lately."

Professor Dumbledore gave her a look, gauging her as though he was seeing her for the first time. "I'm afraid that I won't be much use in that area. I have a basic knowledge of Wiccan magic at the most. Not enough to perform any sort of incantation with it."

"Ms. Calendar," Buffy announced.

"What?" Harry asked.

Buffy was getting excited with this thought. "She's a techno-pagan. Not necessarily Glinda but she cast a demon from the Internet, she's bound to have a hand in the mojo. I'll get the guys into research mode."

"What can I do?" Harry asked.

The Slayer glared at him. "I think you've done enough."

Harry blanched at her words but didn't argue them. She knew that it had been an accident but her worry and frustration were making her waspish. Things had been easier before Harry had come, Giles had been more focused on his duties, more focused on her. _Jealous much?_ she chastised herself mentally.

"A firm plan, Ms. Summers," Dumbledore commended. "Harry, might you give me and Ms. Summers a moment alone."

"I don't want to leave him," Harry protested weakly.

Dumbledore was stern and reassuring. "It will only be a moment."

Sullenly, Harry walked out, shutting the door behind him with a soft thunk. Buffy turned to the aged wizard, placed her hands on her hip and did her best to look commanding. "I'm not going to sit by and have another Watcher die right in front of me. You think I was too hard on wizboy, that's fare, but I'm not going to coddle him."

"He's still just a boy, Ms. Summers," Dumbledore told her gently. "A boy who has lead a lonely life."

"This isn't a school. When things go wrong people die," Buffy countered. "It's time he learns that. You letting him believe that he should just lounge-chair it while the rest of you take care of things, is only going to get him and a lot of others dead."

The wizard nodded. "You are quite an extraordinary leader for one so young, Buffy. Now Harry has lead himself, but he does not know the strategies to do it well. As you say, we've been coddling him. And I want to change that."

"What's this got to do with me?" Buffy asked with little diplomacy.

"I want you to teach him to be a leader."

For anyone wondering, I basing Buffy's past on the comic book and not the movie, although they have a lot of similarities.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18: Exacerbate Dream

_Giles sat at his family table, James was across from him digging into a plateful of food that their mother had just set down, momentarily oblivious to his elder brother's presence. The kitchen was bright and elegantly decorated for a wizarding house, which tended to be chaotic with all the magic that scurried around as though a whirlwind. But for Rupert's sake, magic had been kept down to a minimum. _

_James' return during the summer months always made that much more difficult, he was practically bubbling over with all the things he'd learned. It wasn't unusual for Rupert to wake up and have been the victim of some concoction that James had created while in school. The young soon-to-be-Watcher usually took this all in stride, but in his opinion James had taken it too far this morning. Which explained the boys' silence during the dinner. _

_Of course, earlier it hadn't been silent, there had been loud words torn angrily from each boy, Rupert threatening with the defense tactics he'd learned inside the Watcher's Council and James brandishing his wand out in front of him, not caring what the consequences would be. It had taken both their mother and father to separate the two teenagers. _

_Arlene had threatened to take away certain privileges if the two didn't act at least civil to each other. That had translated to Rupert and James that they'd completely ignore the others presence. She was now taking a seat next to her husband, brushing aside curly waves of chocolate hair that had fallen into her face while she'd been serving dinner. _

_With a smile, Edward took her hand and squeezed it conveying the thought that the boys would soon be back on speaking terms. Giles who was staring at his mother's relief now wished he'd told them both how much they had meant to him. Edward for taking in a boy who was not his own and raising him as though he were and Arlene for always seeming to understand his heartache._

_It all appeared to be such a typical family dinner, with the two children at odds and the mother and father doing their best not to go crazy waiting for them to reconcile, that Giles feared that his presence, his elder self would soon shatter the illusion. _

_"Rupert," Edward said, cutting into Giles reverie, and causing both the younger and elder versions of himself to turn towards him. But Giles gasped in a cold breath, when the younger Rupert's face came into view. _

_Gone were the hazel eyes, the brown/green mixture he had inherited from his mother, and in its place glowed red slits of malice. His nose had also flattened, becoming only a bump against his boyish features and he breathed through two holes that were anything but human. _

_"Yes Dad?" the transformed Rupert answered, before his hand snatched out, grasping James' throat and crushing the life out of him._

_"No," Giles barked, leaping out of his seat at the table and trying to pry the fingers of his demonic self from James' throat. But his own passed through the flesh as though he were only a specter, a ghost caught out of time._

_His younger brother's struggles stopped as Demonic Rupert crushed his windpipe with a quick jerk. "We killed your brother," the voice hissed, his but eternally changed. With a burst of strength that Giles himself had never possessed, his younger self tossed James across the table and flung him at Edward and Arlene._

_The force of James hitting them sent Giles' parents flying into the wall, their heads cracking ominously in the dinning room. "We killed your parents."_

_Giles backed away from his younger image, not yet catching the words that hissed out of the demonic boy. "No, I wasn't here when they died. I would have prevented it."_

_Suddenly Harry shimmered into existence behind the demonic Rupert. "You aided in it," he accused sharply._

_"This isn't real, this is a hallucination caused by an excessive amount of alcohol," Giles muttered to himself as the demonic Rupert walked over to Harry._

_"He will be mine or he will die," the younger Rupert said, petting the back of Harry's dark hair, as though to smooth down the recalcitrant locks._

_Giles blinked, truth coalescing in his shocked mind. "I know who you are," he said flatly, calmly. "You're inside of me."_

_"You truly are brilliant," Harry said, both awed and sarcastic at the same time. _

_Giles took a menacing step towards his demonic younger self. "This isn't where you belong, this isn't your body."_

_"Not my choice, Watcher. You've managed to keep me trapped for the time being, but that won't keep me from controlling Potter forever," young Rupert, possessed by Voldemort, said. He reached down and cupped Harry's chin. "Such a beautiful child."_

_"If you must prance around in my mind, be so kind as to adopt your own form," Giles said, the anger still heavy in his voice. "I'm afraid mines taken."_

_Voldemort looked down at his hands, hands that resembled Giles' yet younger. "But you aren't using it. Not the way you should Rupert Giles." _

_The bright and tasteful dinning room around them shimmered and morphed into a university dormitory, old and musty furniture adorned it's shabby carpet and scrapped walls. The smell of aged beer and stale smoke permeated the air. In the background Behind Blue Eyes played in crushing tones, but went unnoticed by the three occupants of the tiny dorm room. And Giles found himself once again alone amongst his past. _

_Ethan Rayne lay on the shabby carpet, his face a mask of ecstacy as the demon, Eyghon, was channeled through a younger Rupert, if slightly older then the one who had sat at the family dinning table, brought them the incredible high of his magic. This Rupert lay on the couch, his face drug-slackened, his mouth cracked open and a trace of drool lining down his mouth. On the floor next to him was Deirdre her back bowed by the sheer pleasure of the rush._

_"Is this where you kill him?" Harry asked, suddenly at his side. _

_"That's far away from here," Giles answered. "And I'm being used."_

_Harry shook his head, his eyes glowing red. "The time is irrelevant."_

_&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&_

"Hey," Buffy said, peaking her head into Uncle Rupert's bedroom.

Harry looked up from one of his uncle's text on mystical mind merging. He wasn't sure if he wanted to see Buffy right now, not after her harsh words earlier. Not that they hadn't been spot on, but it was hard to see his uncle like this and know that it was his fault let alone having the Slayer point it out to him.

"Yes?" he questioned, feeling his pride pricked by her interruption. Part of him hated the fact that she was so in control when he knew that she cared for Uncle Rupert just as much as he did, part of him was relieved that for once he didn't feel as though he had to take the lead. Whenever it came to Buffy, he felt both threatened and inspired.

An abashed look crossed momentarily over her pretty face but it only lasted a moment before her features softened into understanding. "Can we talk?"

Closing the book, he set it aside on the bed stand. "I'm sure that's plausible."

A smile twitched the right corner of her mouth. "Sometimes you sound so much like him."

"I don't know anything about him," Harry countered heatedly.

An uncomfortable silence filled the space between them and Buffy's shifting eyes settled on Uncle Rupert's silent form. He recognized the pain that crossed over her eyes there, knew what it was like to want to protect those around you but being helpless to stop the course of their actions.

"We'll get Giles back," Buffy broke into his reverie. "I promise."

Harry didn't respond to this. How could he explain to her what it was like to have Voldemort in your mind, to know that his power could overcome yours and be totally incapacitated by it. The logistics of the spell weren't readily handy, but Harry wondered who held the reigns in Uncle Rupert's mind. If Voldemort could hurt him bodyless, as he had many others. It hadn't been hard for him to take control of the weakened and broken before and Harry's only hope was the knowledge that his uncle's mind was like steel and impenetrable.

"I was way harsh earlier," Buffy erupted as though the words had been brimming inside her. "I had no right to judge you're actions when God knows I've dug my own."

She was trying to apologize to him! That was something he hadn't quite counted on. She was usually so unrepentant of her behavior, sound in her instincts. And again he felt that mixture of envy and awe fill him. "No matter how hard I try the people around me wind up getting hurt or worse," he admitted. "I didn't want this for him."

"This gig we've got is so...wrong. And it's hard and we make mistakes," Buffy tried to sooth, to explain.

Harry frowned at her words, feeling them pierce his heart. His mistakes had cost the life of his godfather, Cedric had died because he hadn't been prepared for Voldemort, hadn't heeded the warnings that his teachers and elders had given him. His own parents had been murdered because of the wrongness of his 'gig'.

"I don't think I want this life anymore," Harry admitted. "Things were so much simpler when I was just an average boy. When I first found out I was a wizard, there was a sense of freedom. I wasn't bound by my uncle and aunt's abuse anymore. I could leave their influence, become part of something bright and fantastic." He shook his head, wondering how six short years had changed his view of magic. "But now, I feel I'm at an impasse. I've learned things about myself that I don't want to believe in."

"Harry, this isn't your fault. Not really. Voldemort is the bad ass here, not you," Buffy said, quick to back him up.

"But I must become him to destroy him," he said quietly, mournfully. Knowing that it was this fact that had caused him to lash out so ruthlessly at Uncle Rupert. His uncle had made a mistake in choosing his friends and activities, but he had killed his friend to save his and the lives of many others. Harry's own self-disgust at even contemplating murdering Voldemort had been placed on Uncle Rupert unfairly.

"Huh?"

"There's a prophecy about Voldemort and I. The reason he tried to kill me as a baby, why my parents were murdered, the reason my godfather died, and why Uncle Rupert lays there now," he elucidated. "One prophecy that has killed so many in his pursuit to avoid it. He doesn't even know the whole of it. He just knows that I am the one that has the power to kill him. One of us must die for the other to survive. And I have to kill him."

Buffy unexpectedly rolled her eyes. "Prophecies. If I never hear another prophecy in my life I'll do a happy dance for Xander."

"How can you say that? You died, Buffy. You knew what was to come and you still walked into a death trap," Harry countered. "I can't face Voldemort knowing that I have to be murdered or murderer. I can't kill a man who is still essentially human."

"Harry, I did die, and I can't explain to you how that felt, how it still feels," she paused as the words halted in her emotion filled throat. "But I didn't stay dead. Xander, Lupin, and Angel were there for me, they brought me back. You have to let Hermione and Ron and Giles and all of us help you. Because if you don't, that prophecy will come true and Voldemort will be the one living the life of the living.."

"But you can't kill him for me," Harry said snidely.

Buffy shook her head. "Why do you think I hit Giles? No one else could have gone down to face the Master. I'm the Chosen One and in the end I had to accept that. Just as you have to accept your Chosen Oneyness."

That drew a smirk from Harry. "Personally I prefer 'the Boy who Lived'."

"Go with what works for ya," Buffy agreed with sudden cheer.

"Do you really think he'll be okay?" he asked as his concern returned.

"It's Giles, he has to be."

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

_"Yes, let's do keep reliving the past," Giles muttered as he was now gazing at a ten-year-old version of himself._

_Little Rupert sat at his desk, the sunlight from his window warming his back. He had his bottom lip clenched between his teeth and was working bent-backed over his desk. James sat on the floor with a variety of wizarding candies stretched out before him. He was currently trying to grab a Chocolate Frog before it escaped out of its wrapper. Downstairs he could hear his father arguing with two men in suits that had come to the house. Edward had quickly shooed both Rupert and James up into the elder brother's room. _

_As he stamped his way up to his room pulling a four-year-old James with him, Rupert had heard his mother whisper something about the _Council_ in a tight voice to his father. Rupert hadn't known exactly who those men were, but his mother had looked frightened by their presence. Rupert had already decided that he didn't like them. _

_Giles remembered this day as though it had happened yesterday, this was the moment in time that he had learned of his destiny. That his dreams and hopes for the future were not his own. Strangely, he wanted to shield Little Rupert from it, although well aware that Edward would be slowly coming up the stairs to reveal the truth to his adoptive son._

_The door creaked open and Edward stepped in, looking commanding in his wizarding robe and yet weighed down at the same time. Giles wished he could let his adoptive-father know that the young boy sitting at the desk would have a hard life, but he would be alright. James leapt from his crouch on the floor and flung himself into Edward's arms and Little Rupert momentarily glanced away from his work to glance at his father, moving his head enough to show the airplane he'd been drawing. _

_Edward hugged James and then sat him down on the floor. "Mummy wants you to go help her with some cookies she set out, okay James?" _

_"What about, Rup?" James asked, using the nickname that James had used for him alone. _

_"Rupert and I need to have a talk," Edward explained, patting James' rear as he scrambled out the door. _

_Giles wanted to run away from this scene. He had relived it a number of times in his dreams, thought about it during those hard days of studying, when he'd returned to the Council with his tail between his legs. He didn't need to see it play so lively in front of him._

_He closed his eyes as Edward took the picture from Little Rupert. "What's this Rupert?"_

_"I'm going to be a pilot," Little Rupert informed happily. _

_He could see the sad smile flit over Edwards face now, knew how difficult it was for him to tell the horrid truth. _

_"Rupert?"_

_Giles opened his eyes and found the scene changed. Ethan stood before him, his Cheshire cat grin stretching his long features, while he gazed adoringly at himself in a floor length mirror fluffing fingers through his hair. He was young, perhaps twenty-two, his hair full and lush falling to his shoulders, his eyes blue and measuring in that way Ethan had always looked upon everything, puzzling out what could be gained from the object of his scrutiny. _

_"Ripper, mate, you can't be serious," Ethan said on a chuckle, glancing over his shoulder at Giles. _

_It took a moment for Giles to realize that Ethan was actually speaking to him and not the phantoms of memory. Half embarrassed, he cocked his head imploringly to Ethan. "Hmm?" Strangely amiable to his old friend._

_"Aren't you dying for a little?" Ethan asked._

_Giles found his patience straining. "Ethan do stop your infernal prattle."_

_"Mate, look in the mirror," his old friend said and stepped away. _

_As he stepped into the mirror it wasn't his own visage that displayed on the reflective glass but that of a snake-human hybrid. It's red eyes glowering at him. "Power," it whispered._

_&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&_

"I'm with Lupin on this one," Buffy said as the strange group sat inside Giles' living room. "If this Pettigrew creep knows anything about Voldemort and why he wants to take over Harry so much, I want to know about it."

"But to release him from the petrification spell would allow him to change into his animagus form," Hermione countered intelligently. "From what I've read there's no other way to stop that from occurring."

"Professor?" Harry asked, for the first time stepping away from Giles' room and taking part in the investigation in how to exercise the dark wizard from the Watcher.

Dumbledores' glittering eyes regarded the boy solemnly for a moment but shook his head. "It is a great point that an animagus can change from and in to the form he has chosen at will. The better, he is at it the higher his proficiency."

"What do you think, Ms Calendar?" Willow asked, reaching to the coffee table that wads laden with pizza and soda she grabbed a Root Beer.

Ms. Calendar shrugged lackadaisically, appearing to be both prompt and relaxed on the situation. "There are a number of spells in stopping such a transformation for certain demons, but for humans, I'd have to research that."

"That's a start," Buffy agreed. "Will, why don't you help Ms. Calendar in that. You're both super-computer and two screens work twice as fast."

Willow swallowed her soda. "Gotcha."

"There's also the scare-the-funny-cloak-off-of-him approach," Xander said, folding his pizza in half and snatching half the slice into his mouth. When he realized that everyone was staring at him blankly he looked at them wide-eyed. "What?" he mumbled over cheesy goodness.

"No offense, mate, but what in the bloody hell are you talking about?" Ron uttered what was bound to be in everyone else's mind.

"Ron," Hermione scolded but with a gentler tone then she had in previous years.

Buffy laughed. "Yeah Xand, not everybody understands Xanderese."

Smiling self-consciously, he downed the rest of his pizza with a Mountain Dew. "If he's too afraid to go Puff-the-Magic-Rat, he won't try the magic abbra kadabra."

"And what would be scary enough to make him think that it wasn't safe," Lupin interjected in a tone that sounded as though his patience was running thin.

"Angel," Buffy said simultaneously with Xander and Willow.

That made Lupin's tired face lighten. "Of course."

"Do you think he will help us?" Harry asked dubiously.

Willow's smile was strangely both shy and sly as she gazed on Buffy. "I think if Buffy asked him he would."

"'I think if Buffy asked him he would,'" Xander mocked in a high pitched tone. "And if Buffy asked him to impale himself on a stake would he?" At both Buffy and Willow's glaring eyes he sighed. "Purely for the sake of the world."

Dumbledore chuckled lightly. "I feel I am quite lost in this world."

"You aren't alone in that, Professor," Hermione said curiously.

"So I'll stop by the house and ask Angel," Buffy said, screwing up her will. She was supposed to stay away from him, but fate seemed hellbent, or was it hellmouthed, on getting them together. "How long to reverse the petrification?"

"Seconds," Harry answered.

"That's one good thing," Buffy said with a sigh of resignation. "Okay, I'm off. Watch me go."

Despite Willow's affirmations that Angel would do anything for her, she felt hesitation grip her as she approached the door to his apartment. It wasn't quite sunset and the air if not chilly was brisk with the coming of fall. Their previous meetings had been full of tension, not only with their physical attraction, but with Buffy's own death-issues. She had thrown the fact that he was a vampire in the face of his very human soul and she wasn't sure how likely he was to forgive that. Of course, when he'd held her in his arms as she'd cried after destroying the Master she had felt so much tenderness from him that it had nearly frightened her as much as the Master's return.

Screwing up her Slayer reserve, she rapped her knuckles on the wooden door. It wasn't long before the door pushed opened and a tired-eyed, shirtless, Angel stood back in the shadows of the house, avoiding the last minutes of sunshine. The flesh around his eternally youthful eyes widened as he saw her. "Buffy?"

"Uh, hi," she stuttered out. _Wonderful dialogue, maybe later you can drool on his shoes,_ she chastised herself.

"Did you want to....I mean was there something you needed?" Angel asked, his own apprehension showing in his words.

"Ah, you actually," she said without thinking and then, realizing her implication blushed as she tried to backpedal. "Which is to say, I need your body....your person." She groaned in frustration. "I need you to scare a rat."

"Uh-huh," Angel uttered, keeping his sentences to a minimum as usual. "Why don't you come in while I get a shirt."

Buffy stepped in watching the play of the tatoo on his muscular back. "Yeah, okay."

He walked over to his bedroom and pulled a white cotton t-shirt from his closet. "What's the problem?" he asked as he looped the shirt around his arms and over his head, hiding his sculpted chest from view.

She quickly turned from her examination of him and pretended to study a statue he had cased in glass. "Huh?"

"Well, don't get me wrong, but I don't think the Slayer would need me for pest control," he said, walking to the entry of his bedroom in which Buffy's enigmatic statue stood next to and leaned against the frame.

She looked up at him chagrined. "It's Giles. The lord of the wizards has put himself into Giles body. We captured one of his lackeys, who can turn into a rat, who might have the 411 we need. We want you to frighten him into talking."

His head drooped for a moment then he turned away from her completely. "Maybe you should be discussing this with Harry?"

"Harry? I've already talked to Harry about this," Buffy said, inexplicably feeling defensive.

"And he was okay with it?" Angel asked incredulously.

Buffy hissed a sharp breath out in frustration. "What is with you?"

"Nothing," Angel said on a defense of his own. "I just thought this was something that you and Harry could work together on."

Buffy wondered exactly what type of blood the butcher had been giving Angel. "Why do you keep bringing up Harry? Of course I would work with him he's Giles'..." but she broke off as realization abruptly dawned. "You're jealous."

"No I'm not," Angel disagreed.

"Yes you are," she insisted. "Childish much."

"I wouldn't get jealous of a kid," Angel said.

Now Buffy felt as though she'd like to hit him. "Is it because I rode his broomstick...and now that I've said that, I notice how wrong that sounds. And speaking of kids, he's my age. Am I just a kid?"

"Let's go scare your rat or did you forget about Giles," Angel accused, deftly diverting Buffy to the matter at hand. He made his way to the door but Buffy stopped him with a hand on his bicep. "What?" His eyes looked down at her slim finger so powerful and yet so delicate.

"Sun."

"Oh, yeah."

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

_"I have ran out of truth and I am lost," the words echoed in Giles' dream world. _

_"I remember those words," Giles said aloud._

_He was now standing in a tunnel, bright and white, in it's fathomless distance he saw Harry waving him forward to join him. Ethan grabbed his hand and started pulling him towards his nephew. "Come on Ripper"_

_"What lies at the end?" he felt fatigued, as though he'd been fighting a war._

_"Peace," Harry said, an eerie benevolent smile stretching his face until it broke the lines of his cheeks._

_"Rup, you were never this barmy before, don't start now," a new voice entered the conversation._

_Giles pulled his grip away from Ethan and turned towards that voice. He wasn't as tall as Giles, perhaps a handspan shorter, with black hair that was eternally and helplessly mused, his eyes were a mixture of brown and green. He wasn't the boy he remembered nor the young man he had met on his wedding day, but a man aged by time. _

_"James."_


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19: Brotherly Love

"Dear Lord, James is that really you?"

The man that would be his brother, opened his arms out in a wide gesture. "In the flesh," James said cheerily. Looking down at his robe-clad body, James continued, with a rueful shrug, "So to speak."

Ethan was once again trying to pull at him, leading him away to that white light that was painful to look upon. How did he know that James' image wasn't another trick of Voldemort's, a way of taking over him, mind and body?

"It is a trick, but not on my side. Voldemort is trying to possess you completely. The only way to do that is to kill you." He shot Ethan a malicious grin. "No Avada Kedava this time, you retched git."

Ethan's eyes suddenly flamed red and his nose sunk back into his face until it was just a tiny hub, with two slits for breathing. "Immortality, James Potter. Something you and the rest of your weak family could never understand. I will kill your son and I will live forever."

"Sounds like a lofty goal for someone who is caught, trapped in my brother's body," James replied with that same mixture of challenging nonchalance. "Tell me Voldemort, how to plan on living forever after old Rupert here kicks the bucket."

Frowning at his brother, Giles defended himself. "I will not in any form, 'kick the bucket'."

"Is this really the time to act the prude Rup?"James said out of the corner to Giles.

This whole conversation was bordering on the lines of insanity. Against his better judgement, he wanted to trust the talking reenactment of his little brother, but he had to admit this wasn't entirely his mind any more. Voldemort was joined with him, temporarily he hoped, but able to manipulate the world around him as well as Giles himself.

"I am not being prudish, it's called being realistic, you prat," he shot at his brother. His anger was mounting at each moment, being fueled by Voldemort's red glare and James' pompous look. He spun to face both Ethan as Voldemort and he Harry apparition. "You! Get the bloody hell out of my head."

And suddenly it was just him and James. The watcher starred at the empty spot where Ethan and Harry had both been standing. Silence, eerie and almost as unwelcome as the Dark Lord himself followed, chilling Giles.

James burst out into laughter. "Sorry 'bout that. But had to make you mad enough to give us some privacy."

"P..pardon?" Giles asked, confused at the fact that change had remained behind.

"Really, Rup," James said with that cheeky grin. "What were you thinking? That you could solve everything with one single spell?"

"Buying time to keep Harry safe. As long as Voldemort is preoccupied with me, he cannot come after your son," Giles explained in a tone that said James should have already figured this out.

James cocked a dark eyebrow. "And what of his followers?"

"I trust Buffy and Angel to their safety."

His younger brother shook his head in mild amusement and shock. "A vampire with a soul. I'm not quite sure how I feel about it."

Feeling as though he were being vaguely criticized, Giles countered, "It's not as though I haven't tested his loyalty James. He's trying to amend for the damage he wrought as Angelus."

"Do you really believe that?"

"Yes," Giles said, though he plainly had his reservations, especially when it came to his relationship with the Slayer. "It is a tenuous situation, but there are too many other risks on the

Hellmouth to not accept help when it is proffered." He sighed feeling he weight of so many years of separation. "You still don't trust me."

It was then that he realized that this really was James. Not a figment of his imagination and not Voldemort in disguise. His brother made real inside his mind. That made the recriminations all the worse. After all his sacrifices James still could not forget the past. How long would he have to pay for the frivolity of his youth?

"You reckon that I have any reason I should?" James asked, his eyes widening behind his glasses.

"Perhaps because I've changed," Giles returned with a touch of asperity. "Or that I am willing to take your son and your best friend into my household. That I would gladly die to protect Harry."

"All very good reasons," James said with a sage nod.

Giles side, reaching up to grab his glasses with one hand while pulling his handkerchief with the other. "Then why are you here?"

"Powers that Be. Not really sure who they are but they gave me the opportunity to speak with you..."

"And your joyous exuberance for this meeting is overtly obvious..."

"...about Harry and Buffy."

That cut off Giles imminent and continuing sarcasm. "What about them?"

"Destiny. Prophecy. Your girl and my boy were meant to come together. They aren't needed yet, but they will be. The more they know about each other's worlds, the safer wizards and muggles will be." The younger brother gave the older a pointed look. "And they were meant to be watched over by you." The grin returned. "That's what you do isn't it...watch after things?"

"And...ah...you are...all right with this?"

Pondering this, James avoided Giles' gaze for a moment. Suddenly tears glinted in the younger man's eyes, a profound sadness weighting down his usual amiable features. "No one is asking me, Rupert. I haven't had a say in Harry's life since the moment I died. Others have taken that privilege for me. But I understand necessity. After everything my boy has been through, you've managed to put a chink of light through the darkness. And for that I'm willing to forgive you anything."

"I'm afraid my influence on him won't last much longer. There are things in my past, he won't forgive." Again he felt a dreadful sigh building up inside of him. "Like father like son."

"Whoever said I hadn't forgiven you, you prat?" James raged suddenly.

"Yo...you just..."

James laughed, full bellied, a long guffaw. "I asked if you knew of any reasons I should, I never said I didn't."

His brother's laughter was infectious and Giles found the right side of his mouth turning up in a begrudging smile. "Pillock," he snapped, feeling briefly that the years had fallen away and they were both young men, poking fun at one another.

Suddenly the blank and bright world around them trembled, shivers of blackness cracking, like the earth as tectonic plates shifted. James' eyes behind his glasses, spun wildly. "He's coming back. Time is quickly closing in on me. Listen. You were right Rupert. They were both Chosen. The Chosen Ones. Well, they aren't meant to be alone anymore. Lead them, guide them to their path."

"James, I'm not sure what you mean."

"Trust your instincts Watcher."

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Instantly the smell of rodent assaulted Angel's vampire-enhanced senses. It was enough to send him reeling to nearly two years ago, when he'd been living in the alleys of New York, feasting on the blood of those rats that he could catch. That was before Whistler had found him, before the eternal demon had given him a path. Had brought him to Buffy.

Of course, he figured that the demon had not counted on him becoming romantically involved with the Vampire Slayer. It was laughable, the most ridiculous thing in his entire existence, which wasn't incredibly on the short side.

The man the scent was attached to had beady eyes, so dark that they were nearly black, his face was round and ruddy underneath the layers of filth. He distinctly had the appearance of a street urchin and the only thing that marked him as being unique was his slightly glittering right hand. With a subtle sniff, he deduced it's origin. It wasn't a hand made of flesh and bone, but of magic. Dark Magic.

He repressed a shiver and looked over at Lupin who was watching the rat with such an avid expression of disgust, Angel nearly didn't recognize the usual placid features. The greying wizard pulled out his wand and a shock of energy sliced through the air. "Ennervate," the werewolf whispered.

Those rodent-like features leapt to life and as Pettigrew's features awakened, Angel let the demon come forth. The bones shifting in his head and mouth, were raw from so many transformation and no longer ached as they once did.

Before the animagus could transform, Angel caught him by the arm and leered over him. His amber eyes glowing with a sickly light. "I wouldn't do that if I were you. I feel in the mood for rats."

Outside he was the vile murderer he'd once been, the man who had taken pleasure in the art of death, the subtle poetry of silence, the beauty of the frozen mask, a timeless perfection. Inside, however, where his tortured soul lay, he was so young, so easily pained, and found that everything he believed in, everything that made the world bright, was condensed in a slim sixteen-year-old girl. One that was predestined to destroy him and his kind.

He hadn't wanted Buffy to be here when he squeezed the truth, hopefully not literally, out of the turncoat wizard. In his opinion, she'd seen too much of his demon side already, but the Slayer had insisted. She was wrapped in an invisibility cloak, another magic of the wizarding world, not trusting him enough to stop the rat form escaping.

"Wh..who are you?" Pettigrew asked on a stutter.

Angel shook his head, in not so feigned disgust. "Don't they teach you anything anymore in that school of yours? You ever heard of the Scourge of Europe? The Vampire with the face of an angel?" He pressed his face towards Pettigrew, scrutinizing the rat with an amber eye. "Well that's me. The great Angelus."

"No," the beady-eyed man squealed. "St..sta..stay away from me. The Dark Lord will hunt you down. He will n..not withhold his wrath."

Angel looked anything but disappointed. "Yeah, kinda hoping that." He ruffled the dirty brown hair. "You see, he's treading on my turf, sending his lackeys. I really don't like that." Spinning around, he turned his back on the wizard, let the crawling rodent come up with all the ways he could displease Angel. All of the sudden, he was twisting on his heal again, a wicked gleam in his usual soulful eyes. "Hey, but I'm a reasonable lad. I don't have to kill you. Though it's been a real long time since I've had some good...warm blood."

"Wh...what do you want?" It seemed that the wizard was not completely witless, even if he was cowardly. iHe'll look for the power, he wants to be protected from danger. He'll switch sides if he think he gain something from you. Something that Voldemort can't give him/i Lupin had told him. Fortunately there was a demon inside of Angel that knew how to coerce a being to see his point of view.

"It's the why that gets me Pete," Angel said, pulling another emotional mood swing. "Can I call you Pete?" He hunkered down next to the trembling man and flung an arm around the rodent's shoulder. "Sure Sunnyhell is kicking, but why would Voldemort send one of his Deatheaters here. To my town. This is information I need to know."

Wormtail sucked in several stuttering breaths in a row, his lower lip and chin trembling with barely repressed fright. "He...He'll kill me."

Pitching his voice low, Angel furrowed his already rumbled brow. "Now what do you think I'm going to do to you?" The malice morphed into a laughter, great, loud maddening. "Come on, Petey you don't want to make me angry."

"He...he wants the boy."

Angel shook his head. "Not good enough. You aren't telling me anything I don't already know. Now **don't** disappoint me."

"Pppp...Potter has power that would strengthen the Dark Lord i..iif he were to get control of it..." Wormtail explained, his words tripping over one another until they nearly blended.

"He would be near unstoppable," Lupin whispered behind Angel, the terror evident in his voice. "That's why you sent the dementors after Rupert, the last defense Harry truly had against him."

A wicked smile came over the previously trembling features. "I must admit, Ripper was harder to kill then I realized. For a muggle he is not to be underestimated."

"Freeze the sleaze," Buffy hissed and Lupin gestured with his wand. The pinched eyes and pointed nose were suddenly motionless.

A hand appeared out of the air, quickly removing the cloak to reveal the rest of Buffy. Her knuckles were white where she clutched tightly to the thin fabric of the cloak. "He came after Giles on purpose. Why do I get the feeling I don't have all the information. What are you and the rest of the pointy hat and stick brigade not telling us?"

"I knew Dumbledore was worried that Voldemort might be trying to possess Harry, that's why he kept his distance from the boy last year, but now...now it seems that he wants to seduce Harry to his side." Lupin shook his head, running a hand throw his greying hair. "He can't possibly think that Harry would accept."

Buffy seemed as dubious about the situation as Lupin, but Angel knew better. Perhaps out of all of them, he understood the twisted reasoning of the Dark Wizard Voldemort. "Evil breeds arrogance. In some ways it can be as powerful as faith, it strips away all consciousness. There are no inhibitions, nothing to stop you. He'll keep coming after Harry, until one of them is dead."

From where she stood, Buffy shivered and wrapped her arms around herself, keeping a chill she only could feel at bay. "Once we get Giles back, and the big badass wizard returns to his body, what then? Will he come for him?" she asked, gesturing at the statuesque rodent before her. "Or will he send others?"

"He's a flunky, expendable," Angel said.

Lupin nodded. "He'll send another."

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"This wasn't how it was supposed to be," Harry announced at Giles' side, once again his eyes glittered with the ruby hue, evidence of Voldemort's true soul lying behind his nephew's visage.

Feeling emboldened by his brief conversation with James, Giles asked, "Would you like to clarify that?"

"Ah Watcher you are an unexpected thorn in my side," Voldemort hissed through Harry's teeth. "I had half expected you to cringe in my presence. Many Muggles do when I reveal myself to them. Yet, here you are fighting valiantly against me. It seems that it wasn't only your dear dead brother who can give his life uselessly."

Voldemort was trying to bait him, to make him irrational with anger. His training as a Watcher had prepared him for such a tactic. He had to focus on his love for Harry, rather then his indignant anger towards the man - this quasiman - who had killed James and Lily Potter.

Instead he turned the tables.

"I don't see how you can call it useless, by its very definition such a sacrifice holds much power." He cocked his head regarding the red slit eyes and trying to disassociate them with Harry. "But wait a mo'. You already know that. The power of Lily's sacrifice, the magic that she used to protect Harry as you stole the life away from her, invariably nearly destroyed you. It would seem that her method was more practical."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Willow rubbed at her eyes using the pads of her thumb to relax the aching muscles. She had been pouring over Giles' books with Hermione, Ron, Xander, Harry, and Ms. Calendar. Buffy and Angel had gone out patrolling after they had spoken with the creepy guy who was in Lupin's bedroom.

They had already found a way to get Voldemort out of Giles' mind, but it was the difficulty of keeping him out until Giles could recover. A ritual not unlike cleansing a house of poltergeist, or so Sigmonds Compendium had explained. They just had to exercise the wizard from Giles' mind and then figure a way to keep him out.

Abruptly, she shut the useless book beneath her. "If I look at one more of these books my eyes are going to dry up and pop out of my sockets like ping pong balls."

Xander looked out from under the Cheetos bag he'd been adamantly searching. "Thanks for that imagery Wills. You've put me right off my cheesy goodness."

"Sorry, Xan. You've got anything?"

"Zip, zero, nada," he said, turning the bag upside down to show the empty contents.

Willow gave him an indulgent smile. "I meant on the research. Are you even reading those?"

"Yeah, I tried, but there was this thing that the words started to become a big long blur."

"And he was day dreaming about Buffy," Ron snickered, the text in front of him seemingly as unruffled as Xander's pile.

Xander got his cute blush. "Hey. Not like you weren't going googly eyed over...," he drew off as he noticed the baleful glare coming from Ron.

Willow exchanged a humorous glance with Hermione whose eyes were the only part of her face that was visible beyond her only pile of books. They had all been working overtime and Willow didn't blame the boys for wanting a quick break. But Giles was still unconscious with an evil dark wizard running around in his body.

It was time to get with speedy.

"Ah haha," Ms. Calendar chimed. "I got it. I got it."

Harry sat up from the ouch, the book that had been resting on his chest dropping to the floor. "What is it? What did you find?"

"It's a rather difficult protection spell, something way beyond my power. But I think with Hermione and Willow, we'll be able to pull it off," Ms. Calendar crowed happily.

Still Harry looked dubious. "Why just you, Hermione, and Willow? Can't I help?"

"I'm sorry Harry but the most protective spells originate form Goddesses and this one, um, won't listen to the call of a man."

Harry sneered, "More dark magic?"

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"You understand little," Voldemort said, his ability to keep up Harry's visage beginning to falter.

Giles clutched at his head as pain whipped at him.

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

A scream rented the air and all who were in the house who were not currently petrified ran into Giles' room. Harry stopped short, feeling the scar on his forehead burn as he got nearer to Uncle Rupert. The horrible cries were coming from the Watcher, his back bowed by the pain, the first motion he'd made since the other night.

His trepidation of wandless magic, the magic that had torn Uncle Rupert from his family, that had caused such an addiction that his uncle had taken years to get over. It was destructive and yet it had save his life twice now.

"Harry," he heard Hermione call out to him. "Harry, he's going to die, unless we do something now."

"Start the spell."


End file.
